


sex, lies & sonograms

by sabershadowkat



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabershadowkat/pseuds/sabershadowkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A certain Slayer is pregnant at the end of season 2.<br/>I manipulate the episodes IOHEFY, B2, Anne, FHT, Beauty & the Beasts, Lover's Walk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sex, lies & sonograms

Part One

 

January 19, 1998

"Don't," Buffy said, putting her finger up to Angel's lips. "Just kiss me."

Angel swallowed heavily, then pulled her into a breath-taking kiss. The shirt she was holding fell from her hands as she wrapped her arms around his neck, moving until she was snuggled into his lap on the bed. Angel let his hands run up and down her bare back, causing her to shiver not from the cold, but from desire.

Buffy's tongue danced with his as he slowly pulled the shirt off of her arms, leaving her naked from the waist up. He brought his hands up to palm her breast, circling the pebble-like nipple with his thumb before brushing over it. She moaned into the kiss, arching into his touch.

He shifted, pulling her down onto the bed beside him as he began to kiss down the column of her throat. His tongue dipped into the hollow, then ran down between the valley of her breasts before turning his attention on one. He nipped and licked her soft skin as she ran her hands through his hair.

Continuing down her body, he removed her pants and panties and dropped them to the floor before standing and removing his own clothing. Then he laid beside her and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss, their bodies pressed together intimately. His hand moved between her legs, touching her most sensitive spot and finding her wet. He gently thrust one finger in her and she immediately clamped down upon it, squeezing it. He groaned in excitement, making her shift her hips, searching for something she couldn't name.

Two fingers, then three joined in thrusting into her hot core. Buffy scraped her nails over his shoulders, her mouth moving over his neck, nipping and licking as he'd done to her. He spread her thighs and moved between them, then caught her exploring mouth in a hard kiss as he quickly thrust inside of her, breaking her maidenhead.

She squeaked in pain and he didn't move, letting her adjust to the new sensation of him being inside of her. Instead, he distracted her with his teeth and tongue, deepening the kiss. After a few moments, she began to wiggle under him and he slowly pulled out of her before thrusting back in. She moaned in pleasure, breaking away from his mouth. "Angel," she sighed as he moved down her neck to suck at her pulse points.

Angel set a slow pace, his mouth never leaving her skin as he brought her to the edge. She fell over with a small cry, her legs clamping around his waist as she held onto him. He soon joined her, smashing his lips upon hers as he shot his seed within her. He continued to kiss her lovingly, reverently, for as long as he could.

Afterward, he tucked her small, sleeping body into the crook of his arm, a feeling of complete peace and happiness stealing over him.

 

*****

 

May 1, 1998

Buffy slowly walked into the mansion two hours after the sun had risen. Stake in hand, she cautiously shut the door partway behind her and crept forward. "So, this is your new hideaway, Angel," she said under her breath, her eyes darting around the main room. "A step way up from the factory."

As she came to the center of the room, she paused, looking uncertainly at the halls and other doorways. "Where would you be, huh? Probably in the biggest bedroom," she said.

"He is."

Buffy whirled around to see Spike sitting in his wheelchair. She raised her stake and in response, he arched his scarred brow. "Planning on using that on me, pet?"

"If I have to," Buffy replied, her voice still hushed. "But I'd prefer to use it on Angel."

"Ah, yes, your lovely, psychotic boyfriend," Spike said.

"He's not my boyfriend," she spat. Then to her embarrassment, tears welled in her eyes. She grit her teeth and forced them back. "Tell me where he is, so I can stake him and be done with it."

"It won't work, Slayer," he told her.

"And why not? Wood, heart, poof. That's how it works."

"He's not alone."

Buffy was confused at first, then she saw the tick in his cheek. "Drusilla."

"Yeah," Spike ground out. "Much as I'd like you to kill that bastard, with Dru in there, you won't stand a chance."

"Overconfident in your girlfriend much? Oh, I guess she's not your girl anymore, she's Angel's ho. My bad."

Spike suddenly stood and walked over to her four, quick steps. Buffy's eyes widened and she stumbled backwards as he latched onto her upper arm. "Don't talk about her like that," he growled.

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?" Buffy said, swallowing her fear and striking out with her words. As quickly as Spike grabbed her, he dropped her arm and stepped back, a painful look on his face.

"I hate him."

The words were barely above a whisper, but the venom behind them struck Buffy deep within her own heart, where the memory of her Angel was kept. "I hate him, too," she said. "Which is why I'm here. I'm going to finish it like I should have before..."

Spike turned away from her so she couldn't see his emotions, which were written clearly across his face. He started to pace. "It's not going to happen today, Slayer. Not with Dru in there. I think we need a plan of some sort."

"We?"

"Yes, we. As in you an' me, pet. I think if we can take him by surpri-" His words cut off suddenly as he stumbled, his legs collapsing under him. "Bloody hell," he cursed, catching himself on the edge of a couch.

Despite the possibility of death, she was at his side in an instant, taking his arm over her shoulder and helping him back to the wheelchair. "I don't think it's going to happen, Spike," she told him.

"These stupid, fucking legs," he growled, then glared at her. "It's all your fault."

"Don't care," Buffy said, going behind him to take the handles of the chair. "Where to?"

"What?"

"Well, I want to finished discussing this plan of yours," she replied. "And I'd prefer we not be somewhere so open."

Spike grabbed the wheels and began pushing himself down the hallway with a curt, "Follow me." He nudged open his bedroom door with his foot, then wheeled inside. Buffy followed him and firmly shut and locked the door behind her. The vampire went over to the bed and then levered himself out of the chair and onto the edge of it. "Fuck."

"Still hurts?" Buffy asked, glancing around the bedroom with a curious eye. It was definitely a room occupied by a single person. Drusilla must have left him for Angel awhile ago. The tears sprang up in her eyes again at the thought of him and she clutched the stake still in her hand until the wood splintered with a loud crack.

"Slayer?" Spike said, his voice quiet and almost concerned.

"I almost had him back," she whispered, more to herself than to him. The tears began to fall unheeded down her cheeks. "We were at the school. Those ghosts..., I got to hold him. Kiss him. He was Angel again..." She dropped the splintered stake and put her hands over her face as the sobs came.

Spike had no clue what prompted him to stand on his still shaky legs and go over to her, nor why he gently led her back over to the bed and sat down, then pulled her onto his lap. Perhaps it was because she was in the same amount of pain he was in over Drusilla's unfaithfulness. Holding her smaller body in his arms as she cried on his shoulder broke the emotional dam he had built to protect himself from Dru's actions, and he felt his own tears fall slowly down his cheeks as he rocked slightly back and forth.

Buffy's sobs eventually tapered off and they sat there in silence, drawing comfort from a mortal enemy. Slowly, she raised her face from his shoulder and looked at him. She saw the pain etched on his face, the tear tracks, and she knew that they needed each other. And for more than just bringing an end to Angel.

Without a word, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes against the pain and the misery that enshrouded her life. She felt his arms tighten around her as the kiss deepened, the salty taste of their tears mingling in. She toed her shoes off, then twisted so she was able to put her arms around him.

He stood suddenly and turned to lay her back on the bed, half-covering her body as he joined her. Their lips never parted as he kicked off his own shoes, his hand running up under her top to caress her skin. He brushed the underside of her lace-covered breast, then cupped it when she wrapped one leg over his.

Her hands wove into his peroxide-blond hair, holding him to her as she arched into his touch. He pushed the material of her bra aside and rubbed two cool fingers over her nipple, causing it to peak. He broke away from her mouth and began kissing down her jawline to her ear. Nibbling it softly caused her to thrust her hips up at the unexpected shiver that ran down her body.

Spike pushed himself up to look at her, his fingers still caressing her breast. He read the need to shove the thoughts and pain away in her eyes, reflecting what he was feeling. "Just for today, Slayer," he said quietly. "We won't be enemies."

"Just for today," Buffy repeated.

He stood again and pulled her into a sitting position. He removed her shirt and bra, then gently pushed her back onto the bed and removed the rest of her clothing. As he stripped out of his own T-shirt and jeans, she removed the small, cross necklace that adorned her neck. He took it by the chain and set it on the night stand, then joined her on the bed.

Hands that had thrown punches now caressed; tongues that had formed hateful words now danced together in harmony. Buffy's fingers ran lightly over Spike's strong back as he kissed along her neck and down to her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth and suckled it, rolling it with his tongue before repeating the action on the other one. His hand dipped between her legs to the nest of curls, finding and stroking her sensitive nub with his thumb as he gently pushed one finger, then two deep inside her, preparing her for him.

She moved her hips with his touch, wanting more, needing more. She grabbed the back of his hair and pulled him up her body to capture his mouth with hers, biting his lower lip lightly before delving into his mouth with her tongue to taste him. He nudged her legs apart with his knee, settling between them and he positioned his hard shaft at her entry. She lifted herself slightly and he slowly thrust inside of her hot, wet channel.

He growled as became encased in her silken heat, his cool body pressing against her warmer one with his weight supported on his forearms. She wrapped her legs over his and her arms around his torso as he began move in her. She whimpered into his mouth, her hips arching up to meet him with each slow thrust.

For minutes or hours, neither cared how long they lay together, engaging in the rhythm that never changed throughout history. Spike brought his hand between them to stroke Buffy again until she broke away from his mouth with a gasp. "Spike," she breathed, her body arching and shaking as she climaxed, her muscles tightening around his shaft.

"Buffy," he growled as his own orgasm came, spilling his seed deep within her core as he thrust as far into her as he could.

They held each other as they calmed, drawing the strength they each would need to face the upcoming days.

*****  
"I'll come to you when it's time," Spike told her as he settled himself down in the wheelchair.

"I'll be ready," Buffy replied, lacing up her last shoe. She straightened and tugged on the bottom of her shirt. "Well, uh, get better fast, ok?"

"Will do, luv," he said.

She gave him a small smile, then went over to the door and unlocked it. After carefully sticking her head out and checking the hall, she looked back at him. "Bye, Spike," she said, then left.

"Goodbye, Buffy," Spike replied to the empty room. His eyes drifted over to the night stand where the small, cross necklace still lay.

*****  
May 26, 1998

"Hold right there!" Buffy spun and faced the cop who exited the car, his gun drawn. "Put your hands on your head! Do it!" he ordered. Slowly, she raised her hands, wondering how she was going to get out of this one.

Suddenly, the gun is kicked from his hand, then he is kicked in the face before being thrown hard against the hood of the car, knocking him unconscious. She stared, wide-eyed, at her rescuer. "Hello, cutie," Spike said, smiling at her.

"Spike," Buffy said, not returning the smile. "What do you want?"

His smile disappeared. "It's time."

*****  
"I love you," Buffy whispered, holding Angel close.

"I love you," Angel echoed, kissing her shoulder.

Buffy pulled away, tears blurring her vision. "Close your eyes." Angel looked at her a moment, then did as she asked. She kissed him lovingly, then stepped back and thrust the sword through his chest.

"Buffy," he gasped, reaching out for her.

She watched as Acathala sucked her love, who had just gotten his soul back, into Hell.

 

 

Part Two

 

August 31, 1998

Buffy wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper, then threw it into the toilet and flushed. She stood and looked at her haggard appearance in the small mirror above the chipped sink. Turning on the water, she rinsed the bile from her mouth, then grabbed her toothbrush. "Being pregnant sucks," she told herself before shoving the brush in her mouth.

The hot August weather seeped into the run down apartment in Los Angeles where ‘Anne' lived as Buffy threw on her waitress uniform and grabbed her bag. Trekking down the stairs and out onto the streets, she headed to the diner where she worked.

"Hey, Anne," another waitress greeted. "Can you get table five?"

"Sure," Buffy replied, sliding her bag in her locker and slamming it shut. She took out her pad and pen and went towards table five. "You guys ready?"

"Yeah. I think we're good. Um...Anne."

Buffy glanced at the boy, then back at her pad. "What'll you have?"

"Well, ok...What can we get with this?" the boy asked, dumping a pile of change on the table.

"Can we get cake?" the blond girl next to him asked.

"Don't be stupid. We gotta eat healthy. We can't have cake," he told her. He looked back to Buffy. "Can we get pie?"

"We've got a peach pie," Buffy replied. "I can't guarantee there's a peach in it."

"Hey, do I know you?" the girl asked.

"I don't think so," Buffy said, looking away.

"Really? Where're you from?"

"I'll get your pie," Buffy quickly said and walked away. She put in their order and called over to the other waitress. "I'm not feeling to great. Do you think you can cover for me?"

"Sure," the waitress answered.

*****  
"Anne?"

Buffy walked down the street back to her apartment, her stomach begging her to fill it. *Let's see, you get Spaghettio's or Raviolio's, baby,* she thought.

"Anne?"

*Or there might be some left over tuna,* she thought. *Although it could be kinda icky.*

"Buffy?"

Buffy stopped and turned when she heard her name being called. She saw the girl she recognized from the diner.

"Don't be mad," she said, catching up. "I won't turn you in or nothing. I guess you don't recognize me. I mean from before. I was calling myself Chantarelle then. I used to...Well, I was in this cult that worshiped vampires. So lame, I know."

"Yeah, I, uh, remember," Buffy replied, placing her back in her mind with the events surrounding the death of her friend, Ford.

"But...you kinda saved us. I never thanked you or anything," Lily said.

"Did you tell anyone who I was?"

"Oh, no! Not even Rickie. I mean, I was so surprised to see you here, waiting tables...but I wouldn't tell. I know how it is when you gotta get lost," she replied.

*****  
"Who are you?"

"No one."

"Who are you?"

"No one."

"Who are you?"

Buffy looked up and smiled cheerfully. "I'm Buffy, the pissed-off pregnant Vampire Slayer. And you are?"

*****  
September 5, 1998

Her mom stood on the other side of the doorway, staring at her with a look of disbelief and shock. "Oh Buffy," she said, pulling her into a hug.

"I'm sorry, mom," Buffy whispered.

"No, baby, I'm sorry," Joyce said. "I shouldn't have said what I did." She took a step away and ushered Buffy into the house. "Let me take a look at you."

"Mom," she protested good-naturedly, smoothing down the loose shirt over her slightly swollen belly. "I'm ok. Although I could use some food. And about a gallon of juice."

Joyce smiled. "I think I can whip something up." She led her daughter towards the kitchen, then paused in the doorway to give her another hug. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, mom," Buffy replied with tears in her eyes. "I missed you, too."

*****  
October 13, 1998

"Buffy, banned from campus, but not from our hearts, how are you and what's for lunch?" Xander asked as he, Willow, Oz and Cordelia joined the Slayer on the lawn across the street from the high school.

"Oh, I just threw a few things together," Buffy said, popping another tid-bit of food into her mouth.

"When did you become Martha Stewart?" Cordelia asked.

"First of all, Martha Stewart knows jack about hand-cut prosciutto," Buffy stated, passing out bottles of water.

"I don't believe she slays, either," Xander said.

"Oh, I hear she can, but she doesn't like to," Oz commented.

"Second of all," Buffy continued. "Way too much free time on my hands since I got kicked out of school." She sat down and leaned back on her hands, her loose dress exposing her more pronounced belly. "Plus, I got to eat all the mistakes."

"And it shows, too," Cordelia tisked. "I recommend Abs of Steel, Buffy."

"Cordy's right, Buffy," Xander said, tossing a chip at her stomach. "You're looking a bit non- Xena-like."

Buffy blushed and sat up straight, tucking her legs under her. Luckily, Willow changed the subject. "Ooh, Scott Hope at eleven o'clock. He likes you. He wanted to ask you out last year, but you weren't ready then. But I think you're ready now, or-or at least in the state of pre- readiness to make conversation, or-or do that thing with your mouth that boys like." The Slayer stared at Willow in shock. "Oh! I didn't mean that bad thing with your mouth, I meant that little half-smile thing that you...Oz, you're suppose to stop me when I do that."

"I like when you do that," Oz told her.

*****  
"It's ok, I got it. You're, uh, Buffy, right? I'm Faith," Faith said, throwing a vampire into a fence.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say there's a new Slayer in town," Oz said as the group of friends watched the brunette fight.

"Can I borrow that?" Faith asked as she plucked the stake from Buffy's hand and slammed it into the vampire's chest. "Thanks, B. Couldn't have done it without you."

*****  
"God, I could eat a horse. Isn't it crazy how slayin' just always makes you hungry and horny?" Faith asked as she grabbed a muffin and began to eat it.

Willow, Oz, Xander and Cordelia all looked at Buffy. "Well, lately just sitting still makes me hungry and horny," Buffy replied.

"Buffy!" Willow gasped. Buffy gave her a shrug and a small smile.

*****

October 21, 1998

"Angel?" Buffy gasped as she stared at the feral vampire snarling at her in the park. Angel tackled her and she fell heavily to the ground. She curled her arms around her stomach protectively and kicked out with her legs. Angel went flying back off of her.

Quickly, before he could recover, she spun and kicked him hard across the face, sending him to the ground where he slumped into unconsciousness.

*****  
Angel yanked hard on the chain around the boy's neck and a loud crack was heard. He looked up at Buffy, who was standing across the room with a fearful look on her face. Slowly, he walked towards her, his demon face melting into his more familiar, human one. "Buffy?"

Sinking to his knees, he wrapped his arms around her waist, laid his head on her extended stomach and started to cry. Buffy laid a hand on his shoulder and cried with him. Her Angel had returned.

*****

"I'm pregnant."

Seven mouths dropped open in shock.

"P-P-Pregnant?" Giles said, removing his glasses to stare at the blond Slayer.

"You know, with child. A bun in the oven. Expecting," Buffy said, lifting up her loose T-shirt to expose her hard and swollen abdomen.

"Good going, B," Faith said with a chuckle.

"No wonder you look fat," Cordelia added. "And here I just thought that you didn't care that you looked like a skank anymore."

"Tact, Cordy," Xander said to his girlfriend. "Work on it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Joyce asked, standing and then sitting down almost immediately.

"I was afraid to," she replied. "Very afraid. But now that I'm really showing, I figured I'd better say something."

"But why would you be afraid?" Willow said. "You know we would all help you."

"It's not fully human," Oz said quietly and with understanding.

"No," Buffy replied just as softly. "He's not."

Six mouths dropped open in shock.

 

 

Part Three

 

"My word," Giles gasped, sinking into a chair next to Joyce.

"What?" Joyce asked in disbelief.

"Oh man, B. Getting knocked up is one thing, but getting knocked up by the dead? That takes talent," Faith said.

"You mean...you...and Deadboy?!" Xander began.

"No," Buffy interrupted. "He's not Angel's."

Seven mouths dropped open once again in shock.

"But Angel's the only one you...oh!" Willow's eyes grew huge. "It wasn't Angel? Wait, how can it not be Angel? I thought that you had only...you know, with Angel."

"God, Buffy, how many other vampires did you sleep with?" Cordelia said.

"Vampires?" Joyce said in the same soft, disbelieving voice.

"And you've been slaying all this time?" Giles asked out of the blue.

"So, is the proud papa still kicking?" Faith asked. "Or is he clogging up someone's vacuum?"

"Could you imagine if he spontaneously combusted while having sex?" Cordelia said thoughtfully. "That would be a downer."

"Wait, you still haven't told us who the fang boy is," Xander said. "Unless it's not a member of the bloodsucking species. It could be anything and fall under the ‘not fully human' category. Even Oz fits under that category." He glared at the werewolf. "It's not you, is it?"

Oz didn't dignify him with an answer.

"He's a vampire, and no, I don't think he's dust," Buffy replied to both Xander and Faith's questions.

"But I thought that vampires couldn't...you know, make babies," Willow said.

"Neither did I, Wills," Buffy replied. "Guess we were wrong."

"So, who's the unlucky stiff?" Faith asked with a grin.

"This is fascinating," Giles said, still in shock. "I'll have to...get my books." He didn't move.

"Buffy?" Joyce said, looking over at her daughter.

Buffy looked down at her shoes and took a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around her middle. "Spike," she answered. "Spike is the father."

"Woah," Oz commented.

"I say that about sums that up," Xander said.

"There's more," Buffy said.

"Ok, I guess it doesn't sum that up," Xander said.

"Angel...he's...he's back," she told them.

"Angel, the one you sent to Hell?" Joyce asked. Buffy nodded.

"Does he have his soul?" Willow inquired.

"Yeah, I think so," Buffy replied. "He's kinda not too with it. He helped me against Pete earlier tonight."

"You know, I think it's official," Xander said. "Our lives are one big rerun of Dark Shadows."

"Without Kate Jackson," Oz added.

"I think I need to sit down," Giles said.

"You are," Joyce told him.

"Oh," Giles replied. "Perhaps a drink would be better." He still didn't move.

*****  
November 17, 1998

"Giles!" Xander exclaimed, rushing into the office with Faith. He examined the Watcher's bleeding head wound with care. "Faith, call 9-1-1."

"Xander," Giles gasped. "Glove. Must destroy."

"It's ok, G-man, we're getting help. Don't talk," Xander said as Faith dialed the emergency number.

"Damn, who coulda done this?" Faith asked.

"Post," Giles breathed. "Gwen-Gwen-" He passed out.

"Oh man, this is not good," Xander said. "Faith, Angel's got the glove at the mansion. He won't be expecting her and Buffy says that he's still not up to par."

"I'm on it," Faith growled. She headed out the office door .

*****  
"Mrs. Post!" Faith yelled as she burst into the mansion. Angel spun, surprised at the intrusion, and growled at the brunette, but she ducked past him.

"Faith, stop him," Gwendolyn said. "Get the glove before he uses it."

"And to think, I kinda liked you," Faith said before she decked the Watcher across the jaw, rendering her unconscious. She looked up at the vampire. "Put your fangs away, Angel. She won't be going anywhere for awhile."

"What happened?" Buffy's voice carried over to them as she, Willow and Xander hurried into the mansion. The blond went over to Angel and laid her hand on his arm. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Angel replied. "I'm not too sure what's going on, though. This lady," he gestured to Gwendolyn. "Hit me with a shovel, then tried to stake me."

"She wanted the glove," Xander informed him. "Beaned Giles with a statue back at the library."

"Is he...is he ok?" Angel asked.

"Yeah," Willow answered. "He's just got a big lump and a concussion. We got to the library after Buffy separated Lagos' head from the rest of him and they were wheeling him away as he protested with all his British feathers up."

"You beat Lagos?" Faith said, impressed. "Way to go, B."

"Well, I had to go to the bathroom and he was blocking the way," Buffy said. "Never get between a pregnant woman and her toilet."

"What do we do with her?" Xander asked as Angel took Buffy off to the side.

"Shackle her up, I guess," Faith answered. "Angel's got to have some chains around here somewhere."

"How are you doing?" Angel asked Buffy.

"We're fine, Angel," Buffy told him with a patient smile. He asked that same question every time he saw her ever since he'd learned she was pregnant. Of course, she hadn't told him who the father was, and that was something she adamantly insisted on everyone swearing to not tell him, either. It wasn't as if Spike was ever coming back to Sunnydale.

*****  
December 1, 1998

‘Welcome to Sunnydale' the sign read until the black De Soto plowed into it and squealed to a stop. The driver's side door opened and several bottles fell out of the car, breaking on the ground before a certain peroxide-blond vampire followed.

"Home, sweet home," Spike chuckled, then passed out on the ground.

 

 

Part Four

 

"Woah! It smells like church in here," Xander said as he entered the science lab. "No, wait...Evil church."

"It's just chemistry stuff. An experiment," Willow told him as she referred to the book in front of her.

"So you said when you called. Why do I have to be here?"

"It'll help you on the exam. You're way behind," she answered.

"But that's why you love me, right? Academically dangerous?" Xander said.

"Here," Willow said, handing him a feather. "Hold this."

"A feather. And who will I be tickling?" Xander ran the black feather along her cheek and Willow grinned, then scowled at him and shoved his hand away.

"Shush," she scolded. She looked at the book on the table again, then flicked the lighter. "Ok, bring mixture to a boil..."

"I assume this isn't going to make us late for our evening of bowling magic?" Xander asked.

"There's no magick," she said defensively. "I mean...bowling, yeah. Cordelia and Oz are going to meet us here later."

"Can we turn these light on?" he asked, gesturing to the darkened room as he walked to the other side of her. He looked down at the book and frowned. "Is that a spellbook?"

"No, no, no!" Willow denied. "Chemistry book."

"Wait a minute," he said. "This is love spell stuff! You're doing a love spell!"

"No! Of course not! This is a purely scientific..." Willow changed track as Xander picked up her spellbook knowingly. "De-lusting spell...for us. I thought it would go better if you didn't know."

"Are you nuts, or have you forgotten that I tend to have bad luck with these sorts of spells?" Xander said, raising his voice.

"But you said you wished that these feelings could just go away," she stated.

"Yeah, I wish for a lot of things! I told you I wished I was a fireman when we were in sixth grade, but you didn't follow through on that!"

"I can't do this anymore, Xander! I mean, this whole ‘us' thing is...bleagh!" Willow replied, making a face at him.

"So, do you really need to resort to the black arts to keep our hormones in check?!" Xander yelled.

"At this point, I'm thinking ‘no,'" she scowled.

"I'm going to get the lights," he told her, moving in that direction. "We need to clean this place up before they get here and start asking questions." He flicked the light switch up and glared at the redhead. Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around his neck and he was pulled back roughly against someone.

"I need to borrow the little girl," a familiar, British voice said from behind him.

"Oh goddess," Willow gasped. "Spike! Buffy's Spike. The one who wasn't suppose to come...oh goddess!"

Xander let his weight carry him to the floor as he relaxed his legs, then rolled forward out of the vampire's reach. Jumping to his feet, he faced the blond with Willow at his side. "What are you doing back here?"

Spike frowned at their lack of fear and cowering, his alcohol-laden brain not quite catching up with what was going on. "I want the Witch to cast a spell for me," he told them.

"A s-spell?" Willow said. "What kind of spell?"

"A love spell, what are you brain dead?" Spike growled.

Willow exchanged a glance with Xander, then shrugged. "Ok," she told him. "But we need to go to the library. That's where the book I need is at."

Spike jerked back in surprise at her easy acquiescence. "Well, ok then. Right. Lead on." He backed away from the door and they edged past him, heading quickly down the hall.

"Willow, Buffy's in the library," Xander hissed, keeping an eye on the vampire trailing behind them with staggering steps.

"That's why we're going there," Willow hissed back.

"What are you two whisperin' about?" Spike growled at them.

"Here we are," Willow announced instead of replying. She could see Buffy swinging a jump-rope around through the window, dressed in only a maternity sports bra and a pair of tap pants. Her stomach looked huge in the outfit, the beginning of her seventh month stretching her abdomen, but not in an unattractive manner. In fact, she looked better than ever.

Pushing the door open, Xander led the way inside. "Hey there, Buffy," he said in an overly-loud voice. "I'll give you three guesses who we ran into; and if you guess blond, undead and British, you're getting very hot."

Buffy froze, the jump rope clattering to the floor as Spike walked into the library. "Spike?" she gasped.

"Hello, Slayer," Spike said, surveying her from head to toe with a frown on his face. "Did you change something?"

The phone rang, startling her and she put a hand on her stomach as the baby kicked. She walked over to the phone and picked it up, still staring at the vampire in the doorway. Willow and Xander had moved to the other side of the table out of harms reach. "Hello?" Buffy said into the receiver.

"Buffy, are you still working out?" Joyce said from the other end of the line.

"Mom?"

"Listen, sweety. I was hoping we could schedule time for a little college talk a little later," Joyce went on. "With the baby on the way, your choices are more limited but not-"

"Spike's here," Buffy interrupted.

Joyce paused. "Did you say Spike? As in, your Spike?"

"He's here. In the library. Looking at me funny," she confirmed, starting to breathe heavily. "Oh boy. I can't seem to catch my breath."

"Go sit down, honey, I'll be right over," her mother told her, then disconnected.

"Buffy?" Willow said in a worried voice.

Buffy dropped the phone in the cradle and then stumbled over to the table. She sat quickly, her hands gripping the edge of the table as the baby started doing the rhumba.

"Hey, Buff, your tummy's moving on its own," Xander pointed out.

"He's kicking," Buffy said in a small voice.

"Really?" Willow said, forgetting the fact that Spike was still standing over by the doors. She moved over to Buffy's side, her hand extended. "Can I?"

"Sure," she replied. "It's not like you haven't felt him do it already, and is he still there, Xander?"

"Yep," Xander said.

"Woah, hey, who's the hottie?" Faith asked as she entered the library through the stacks, starling everyone. She glanced down at Buffy. "What's the matter, B? You're not going into labor, are you? ‘Cuz there's sort of a nasty mess down at the vault and I kinda could use some ass-is- tance."

"Alright, Xander, where are you?" Cordelia said as she and Oz entered through the doors behind Spike. "I thought you told us to meet in the science lab, and is anyone else aware of the fact that Spike is standing here in the library?"

"He's kicking," Willow called over to Oz with a large grin on her face.

"Cool," Oz said, venturing over to his girlfriend after giving wide berth to the vampire.

"Yeah, Cordy, we know," Xander answered the brunette's question as she hurried away from Spike.

"That's Spike?" Faith said. "Wow, B, you sure know how to pick ‘em."

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Spike suddenly shouted. All eyes shot to him except for Buffy's. "If I don't start gettin' my bloody spell done, I'm gonna rip all your hearts out and eat them!"

"I don't think so, Spike," Angel growled from behind him. Spike spun around and met his sire's fist with his face, sending him down for the count.

"Way to go, Deadboy," Xander said.

"I have to admit, it was perfect timing," Oz added.

"Buffy, are you ok?" Angel asked, stepping over the unconscious vampire and hurrying to her side. "Your mom called and wanted me to get over here."

"Aren't you glad we got you that cell phone?" Willow said to him. "It was my idea."

"You have great ideas," Oz complimented her.

"Um, guys, hate to bust up this little soireee," Faith said. "But we kinda have a thing we need to do where we take our wooden stakes and shove them into vampires hearts."

"What do we do with Spike?" Cordelia asked. "We can't just leave him there, he clashes with the carpet."

"That's my girl," Xander said with fake pride.

"Will everyone just shut up for three seconds please?" Buffy said loudly. The room fell silent. "Thank you. Will - you, Xander, Cordy and Oz, go on your double bowling date."

"But-"

"Go, before I rip your heart out and eat it," the blond Slayer told her.

"You heard the pissy, pregnant woman,"Xander said, taking Cordelia's hand. "Let's move ‘em out."

"Xander, you are so lame," Cordelia said as they headed for the door.

"Call me," Willow told Buffy before Oz dragged her away.

As soon as the door swung shut, she turned to Angel. "Angel, go help Faith," she said. When he went to protest, she added, "Don't make me threaten you, too."

"Alright," Angel replied, standing. "Do you want me to do anything with Spike before I go?"

"Nah, I got him," Buffy answered. She looked over at Faith. "Stay alive."

"Will do, B," Faith said as Angel joined her. "Come on, soul-boy. Let's go kick some undead booty."

Silence permeated the library after they left, leaving Buffy to sigh heavily. She glanced over at the downed blond vampire on the floor, then groaned and thumped her head on the table. "Why couldn't you just stay gone like you promised?"

 

 

Part Five

 

Buffy managed to drag the unconscious vampire into Giles' office and hoisted him onto a chair before her mother arrived. "Hi, honey," Joyce greeted as she came through the doors. "How are you doing?"

"Not good, mom," Buffy replied. "Why did he have to come back? He said he wouldn't."

"Maybe it's somebody's way of telling you that he has the right to know he's going to be a father," Joyce said, looking in on the blond vampire. "Why is he asleep?"

"Angel hit him," she answered.

Joyce tisked. "You really should teach that man some manners," she commented, moving into the office to start the hot water boiling. "You'd think that after 240 years plus another hundred in Hell would have done something about that."

"Well, Spike was threatening us...kinda," Buffy defended her ex-love. "And you're the one who called Angel to begin with. Why did you call him anyway?"

"In case we needed to get you to the hospital and Spike was in the way," Joyce answered.

"Sometimes, Mom, your logic escapes me."

"Now you know how I feel," Joyce quipped with a smile. She looked her daughter over from head to toe. "Don't you think you should put some clothes on?"

"And leave you here alone with sleeping beauty while I change? Nuh-uh," Buffy replied. Spike started to stir and she nodded at him. "See, he's up already. Time to find out why he's here and how we get him to go away again."

"But don't you want him to know about-"

"No."

"Bloody hell, I hate that git," Spike muttered as he came around. He pressed a hand to his head before opening his eyes. When he saw both Buffy and Joyce watching him expectantly, he cursed again. "I swear, my unlife is one big joke that someone is playing on me."

"Why are you back, Spike?" Buffy asked with a scowl.

He stared at Buffy as Joyce turned away to pour the hot water in a mug. "Slayer, you're a porker!"

Joyce cringed and Buffy fumed. "I am not fat, you bleached moron," she spat, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Spike gave her an incredulous look. "What, you don't own a mirror?"

"Spike, here," Joyce interrupted before Buffy staked her grandson's father. "Buffy, why don't you go put your workout things away."

"I'd much rather put a long piece of wood up his vampire...," Buffy mumbled as she left the office.

Spike watched her go, then turned to Joyce. "Maybe I shouldn't have drank that last bottle of scotch. I could swear that she's on the meaty side," he said, taking a sip of the hot chocolate.

"Spike, she's pregnant," Joyce said. She tried not to laugh as he choked.

"She's pregnant?!" Spike sputtered, his eyes huge. "With a baby?!"

"No, with a snake!" Buffy yelled from the other room.

"Yes, she's having a baby boy," Joyce answered as if Buffy hadn't yelled anything. "Do you want to see a picture?"

"A picture? How do you take a picture if the baby's inside her?" he asked with a confused frown.

Joyce dug through her purse and pulled out the sonogram photo. "Here he is," she said, showing it to him.

"Cor, will you look at that," he said, amazed. He set the mug down and took the picture from her. "That's the baby?"

"That's him" she confirmed. She smiled as he studied the picture intently.

"The Slayer doesn't still fight, does she?" Spike suddenly asked with a pensive look on his face.

"Unfortunately, she does," Joyce replied. "None of us can convince her not to, despite Faith and Angel being here."

"Well, you should have bloody well made her stop!" Spike snapped, although he was unsure of what he was upset about. "What does the wanker who knocked her up have to say about her endangerin' his baby's life night after night?"

"I...uh, guess he...doesn't like it," she hedged.

"What do you mean, you guess?" he said.

"Um, why are you back in Sunnydale, Spike?" Joyce asked instead.

Spike frowned at the change of subject. "I'm not sure," he answered. "Dru decided I wasn't demon enough for the likes of her. Caught her makin' out on a park bench with a chaos demon."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said.

"Yeah. She said that she just wanted to be friends. Friends! Can you bloody believe that? After all I've done for her," he scowled.

"Maybe it's for the best," Joyce told him. "Buffy told me what happened with her and the soul- less Angel."

"Pillock," he muttered. His head shot over towards the door through which he could see Buffy sitting at the library table. "The baby's not that prick's, is he? ‘Cuz I know that Slayers are the only ones who can get pregnant by vampires. Something to do with what makes them the Chosen Ones, according to Dalton."

"No, Angel isn't the father," she replied, watching him closely to see if he realized what he just said.

"Good," Spike said. "That sod would make a friggin' awful father. Worse than my own."

"Is he leaving yet?" Buffy yelled from the other room.

"I'll leave when I bloody well want to!" Spike yelled back.

"Now would be good!"

"Excuse me, Joyce," he said, standing with the picture still in his hand. He walked into the main room and right up to the Slayer. "Pet, you are in no position to tell me when or where I go, got it?"

"Spike, this is fair warning," Buffy said sweetly. "Don't piss off a pregnant woman. You won't like what happens."

"And I'll give you the same warning, luv," Spike said in a low voice. "Don't piss me off. You won't like what happens."

"Listen, you worthless excuse for a demon," she growled, rising to her feet and poking at his chest with each of her next words. "I. Want. You. To. Leave. Before. I. Get. Really. Mad."

He grabbed her finger, brought it up to his lips, and kissed it. She snatched it away with a glare and he gave her a cocky grin. Sitting down partially on the edge of the table, he studied the picture again. "So, ducks, what are you gonna call the little bugger?"

"He's not a bugger, whatever the hell that is," she said, trying to get the picture from him. He held it away from her with the grin still on his face. "And it's none of your business what I name him."

"You don't have to be so hostile, Slayer," Spike said. "I was just making conversation."

"Well don't," Buffy replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just go away."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"What do you mean, ‘no'?"

"It's a simple word, pet," Spike said. "It's means the same thing in many, many different languages."

"Have I told you I violently disliked you lately?" Buffy asked.

"So, when's the baby coming?" he asked, examining the picture again. He looked over at her stomach, then at the picture, then back at her stomach. "Cor, this little guy is inside of you. That's bloody amazing."

The baby decided to start kicking once more right at that moment, and Spike's eyes widened comically. He leaned forward and stared intently at her stomach. "Spike, what are you doing?" Buffy scowled at him.

"It moved," he said. The baby kicked again. "See, right there."

She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face at the expression of wonder on his. Reaching forward, she took his hand and placed it over her swollen abdomen. Perhaps the baby knew Spike was his father, because he started to kick up a storm, making Spike snatch his hand away in shock.

Buffy giggled and grabbed his hand again, putting it back on her. "It's the baby, Spike," she told him. "He's kicking."

"That's bloody weird," Spike said, feeling the tiny child moving against his hand. "Does he do that often?"

"Depends," Buffy replied. "He's been kicking more since you got here than he has all week."

"Maybe he likes me," Spike said, puffing up his chest.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Spike, nobody likes you."

"Hey now, that's not nice," he pouted.

"And you're Mr. Manners?"

He scowled at her. "Very funny, Slayer."

"Did you know you're the only one who calls me that on a regular basis?" Buffy asked out of the blue.

"What, Slayer?" Spike said. She nodded. "Well, that's who you are."

"No, that's what I do. My name is Buffy. Buffy Anne Summers."

"And I'm Peter Pan, and if we strangle Tink over there, I'll teach you to fly," Spike replied with a grin.

"Were you born this demented, or did it come with the demon?" Buffy said.

"One hundred percent, pure-bred dementia," Spike told her. "The demon is sane compared to the man in me."

"That I'd actually agree with you about," she teased.

"Ha, bloody, ha, pet," he replied.

"Meow."

"Now I think you're the one who's gone ‘round the bend'," Spike said, absently rubbing little circles on her stomach.

"Only ‘cuz you drove me in that ridiculous car," Buffy replied, unknowingly leaning closer to his touch.

"It's not a ridiculous car. It's a classic," he told her.

"Like you," she said.

"Right...hey! I think you just insulted me again!"

"Guilty," Buffy admitted with a smile. "But, then again, it's sooo easy."

"Watch it, luv, or I'll start to think that you like me," Spike warned.

"Gack! Ick! Phewie! Blech! Yuck! Eew! Blah! Nyagh!"

He glared at her and she burst into giggles. "Laugh it up, Slayer. Come on, get it all out of your system."

Joyce watched from the window of the office as the two once-enemies continued to tease each other, Spike's hand still on Buffy's stomach.

 

*****

Part Six

 

"Buffy, since everything is under control, I think I'm going to head home," Joyce said, breaking into the playful bantering between the Slayer and the vampire.

"‘K, Mom," Buffy replied, taking the sonogram photo from Spike and handing it to her mother. "I'm gonna go check on Faith and Angel, then do a quick sweep before I come home."

"You are not," Spike told her. "You are going home with your mum where you belong."

Buffy arched a brow at him. "Oh really?"

"I'm not going to let you go out there and get yourself and the baby killed," Spike continued, oblivious to the fact that he was making the pregnant Slayer mad.

"And who's gonna stop me? You?" Buffy said snidely. Joyce took this as her cue to quickly, but silently, leave.

"Slayer, see reason here," Spike said. "You're obviously ready to pop at any bloody moment. You shouldn't be out doing...anything! You should be at home with your feet up or something."

"Since when do you care what I do?" Buffy said. "And what about Drusilla? Wasn't there some spell you wanted..."

"Sod the spell," he replied. "If she wants to think I've gone soft...well, her loss."

"Spike, you've always been soft," she said with a wicked grin.

Spike scowled at her. "Very amusing, pet. You're still not going."

"Am too," Buffy stated, sliding on a sweatshirt and her coat.

"Are not."

"Am too."

"Over my dead body."

"Good, you agree," Buffy said. "You're already dead. Bye."

As she started to go, Spike grabbed her arm and wheeled her to face him. "Slayer, why are you so insistent about going and getting you both hurt or killed?!" he growled at her.

"Why the hell do you care?" Buffy replied. "I thought it was your main goal in life to end mine."

"Because I...," he trailed off with a frown. "Well, I..."

"See?" she said. "You don't have a reason. Now, let me go."

Spike dropped her arm and watched as she stormed out of the library. "Bloody hell, why do I care anyway? She's the enemy, you sod," he grumbled to himself. "So what if she gets herself or the baby killed. That's just one less Slayer on the planet to muck up my unlife."

He stomped into the office and grabbed his no-longer-hot chocolate. "I don't care," he stated loudly.

The silence of the library mocked him.

"Bloody hell," he swore, putting the mug down. Then he went after her.

*****  
"Hey ugly!" Buffy called to a vampire as she joined Angel and Faith, who were still fighting at what the brunette Slayer dubbed ‘the vault.' "Catch!" She flicked a stake at him as the word left her mouth. It traveled end-over-end and landed expertly in the vampire's heart.

"Hey B, what took ya so long?" Faith asked as she grabbed a vampiress by the hair and flung her against a wall of a mausoleum. "Did that hottie give you some lip...service?"

"Faith!" Buffy scowled as she blocked an attacker's punch. "I do not want Spike to kiss me."

"Kiss you?" Angel said as he fought two vampires at once.

"Sweetie, he's done a lot more than that already," Faith commented in a patronizing tone.

"What?!" Angel said.

"Can we not talk now?" Buffy said. "I'm trying..." She staked another vampire. "To slay vampires."

"You're trying to get yourself bloody killed!" Spike growled as he approached the fighting group. A vampire went after him and he threw a quick punch, knocking the attacker to the ground.

"Spike, go away," Buffy told him as she started fighting yet another vampire. Spike went up next to her, snatched the stake from her hand and plunged it in her opponent's heart.

"You're done," he stated, dropping the stake to the ground.

"What the hell do you thing you're -- Spike!" Buffy squeaked as the blond vampire swung her up into his arms. "Put me down, you overgrown bat!"

Spike arched his scarred brow at her insult as he started out of the cemetery. "I'm taking you home."

"Since when did you become the boss of me?" Buffy grumbled, holding onto his neck because she didn't want to be dropped.

"Since you started doing bloody idiotic things while you're expecting," he replied.

"Later, B!" Faith yelled to the retreating bottle-blonds. "I want a full lip report next time I see ya!"

Buffy blushed and she heard Angel start to curse. She looked over Spike's shoulder and saw the ensouled vampire wanted to come after her, but couldn't. "Spike, Angel's gonna kill you." Spike snorted in reply. "You aren't planning on putting me down anytime soon, are you?"

"No."

Buffy sighed. "Didn't think so," she said, then decided she may as well be comfortable and laid her head on his shoulder. "I don't get you."

"What's that, luv?" Spike asked in response to her soft statement. The cold December night was clear and quiet as he carried her down the street. Despite her being pregnant, she was still light to him and, for some odd reason he couldn't name, she felt right in his arms.

"Never mind," she said. "You do know that because of your caveman routine, Angel's going to be ticked."

"Like I care about what that wanker thinks," he said. "And when did he become all soul-having again anyway?"

"Willow re-cursed him before I sent him to Hell," Buffy answered sadly. "Then he reappeared out of nowhere a couple months ago."

"You sent Angel to Hell?" Spike said in amazement. Then, with sadness, he added, "Cor, I'm sorry you had to do that, luv. It must have been hard."

"The hardest thing I've ever had to do," she replied quietly.

Spike held her a little closer. "I'm so sorry, Slayer."

"It's ok," she said. "He's back with his soul intact, the world didn't end, I came home, and my life is pretty good considering I'm seven months pregnant and a high school senior."

"Seven months, eh?" Spike said. "There's, what, two more left?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Then it's ‘Hello, Mommy.'"

"And hello Dad," he added, turning onto her street. She stiffened slightly in his arms, making him frown. "Where is dear old daddy anyway? Shouldn't he be protestin' up a storm with your slaying?"

"He, uh...that is...well," Buffy stammered. "The-the, er, father doesn't know he's, um, going to be a dad."

"How could the father not...oh," Spike said. "You didn't tell him."

"No, I didn't," she replied, her voice extremely soft.

"Don't you think you should?" Spike asked as he headed up the front walk to her house. "If it were me, I'd sure as hell want to know, just so I could keep you in the bloody house and not...out..." He stopped walking as his sentence trailed off. They were in front of the steps leading up to Buffy's front door. The porch light flickered before it burned out completely, leaving them in the darkness of the night.

"Did you say you were seven months along, Slayer?" he asked quietly, his tone betraying no hint of what he was thinking. Buffy refused to raise her head from his shoulder as she nodded. She was holding her breath, waiting for the explosion that was certain to come.

Turning, Spike sat on the steps with Buffy now on his lap. "Buffy, look at me," he said, his tone unchanging. Slowly, Buffy raised her head and met his steady, blue gaze. Absently, she noted he used her given name, but she was too nervous to really care. "Who's the father?"

"He's your baby, Spike," Buffy replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're the father."

Spike closed his eyes and swallowed heavily. He then took a deep, unneeded breath and let it out slowly. When he reopened his eyes, he stared at her with a mixture of pain, happiness and anger in his eyes. "You never would have told me, would you." It was a statement, not a question.

She shook her head before dropping it. "I'm sorry."

"We're naming him William. William Joseph."

Buffy's head shot back up in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me," Spike said, his expression unchanging.

"Don't I get any say in-"

"No."

Buffy glared at him. "You use that word a lot, you know that?"

"Get use to it, Slayer," he told her. "Because between now and when my baby comes, you are not doing anything remotely dangerous."

"Don't take that high-handed, British tone with me," she said, her eyes glinting.

"I'll take more than just that tone to you if you defy me," Spike growled.

"Ooh, you make me so mad," Buffy growled right back. "I should have staked you a long time ago."

"Que cera cera, pet," he replied with a smirk. She scowled at him and he chuckled.

"You have got to be the biggest, most impossible, most annoying, most insolent, most indescri-"

Buffy was abruptly cut off when Spike leaned forward and kissed her.

 

 

Part Seven

 

 

"Wh-what was that for?" Buffy asked a few breathless moments later.  
"You're cute when pregnant and angry," Spike replied with a wink. "Plus, it shut you up."

"I'm going to shut you up," she growled. "With my fist." Spike laughed in reply and she scowled at him. "Spike, go away."

"Not gonna happen, pet," he said, calming down. "I'm back to stay."

She groaned and hit her head on his shoulder. "I swear, someone is playing a joke with my life."

"Hey, wasn't that my line?"

"Knew I heard it somewhere," she mumbled into his coat.

"Come on, pet. Let's get you inside," he said, rising to his feet with her still in his arms. He carried her into the house with little trouble, taking her up to her bedroom, which made her frown.

"How do you know where my room is?" Buffy asked.

"Um...," Spike trailed off. "Ancient Chinese secret."

She raised her head and looked at him. "If you weren't dead, I'd think you were blushing."

"Yeah, right. The day I blush..."

"‘Watts, wait...'" She giggled at his surprised look. "I take it you've seen that movie, too."

"Numerous times, " he replied as he set her down on her bed. He then proceeded to unlace her gym shoes and remove them. "Pet, why weren't you going to tell me?"

"Spike, you're a vampire. I didn't think you'd care," Buffy answered.

"Then you don't know me very well," Spike muttered as he took off her socks.

"Getting to know the demons who try to kill you on an intimate basis is not in the handbook, Spike," she said. "Neither is sleeping with them and then having their child, but that's not the point."

"Slayer, put a cork in it," he said, shoving the winter coat off of her arms. He then grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and yanked it over her head.

"Since when did I become your Undress-Me Doll?" Buffy asked, her hair sticking up from the static.

"Yeah, Spike, when was it?"

Both Buffy and Spike's heads whipped towards the window to see Angel sitting outside on the roof, braced against the open window's sill. "God, Angel, you scared me," Buffy said, putting a hand to her chest.

"Sorry," Angel apologized.

"What are you doing here?" Spike growled at him.

"I should be asking you the same thing, Spike," Angel said. They both glared at each other, the tension growing more and more palpable, until Buffy intervened.

"Alright, you two. One of my Mom's rules is no bloodshed in the house," Buffy stated. "Now, Angel, was there something you needed?"

"No," Angel replied. His gaze softened when he looked at her. "I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you're ok."

"I'm fine," Buffy reassured him. "You go ahead home. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for our workout."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Angel nodded, glared once more at Spike, then hopped off the roof. "Wanker," Spike muttered stomping over to the window and slamming it shut. He turned the lock with a savage twist, then pulled the curtains. "Probably was hoping for a show from my Slayer, the bloody peepin' tom."

"Spike, what are you babbling about?" Buffy asked.

"Huh?" Spike said, turning to face her. "Nothing, pet." He looked back at the newly drawn shades with a frown. "What's this about seein' that git tomorrow?"

"For Tai Chi," she said. "We do it together. Then afterwards he gives me a full-body massage."

Spike whipped his head around to stare at her. "Like bloody hell he's gonna lay his hands on you!"

Buffy started to laugh. "You sound like you're jealous."

"If you want a massage, you arsk me," he growled. "That prick better not lay a finger on you, or I'll rip it off and shove it up his hole."

"That's gross," she said, watching him as he started to pace. "God, what is up with you? You're acting all wiggy."

"I just don't want him touching you, that's all," he said. "No telling where those hands of his have been."

"Spike, go away."

"No," Spike stated. "I'm stayin' right here to make sure ‘e don't come back."

Buffy closed her eyes and fell backwards onto the pillows with a fake cry. "Somebody please make him go away so I can have some peace." Spike ignored her as he shed his duster, then kicked off his shoes. He then climbed onto the bed next to her and propped his head on his hand, causing her to open her eyes and glare up at him. "What are you doing in my bed?"

Spike studied her swollen belly, then reached out his hand and gently laid it on her. The baby kicked his hand and he grinned. "That's just so...neat."

She sighed and closed her eyes again. "Wake me when the nightmare that is my life is over, please." He chuckled and began rubbing small circles with his hand. "Um, Spike?"

"Yes, luv?"

"If I ask really nicely, will you leave?"

"No."

"That's what I thought you'd say," she sighed. She felt sleep calling to her from all the excitement and Spike's soothing movements with his hand. "I have a stake with your name on it, buster, if you try anything," she said, trying to stay awake.

"I know you do, pet," Spike replied, a small smile on his face as he looked down at hers. He bent his head and lightly kissed her on the forehead. "Sleep, luv. I'll be good."

"You've never been good in your life," she mumbled before the pull of sleep became too strong.

"Just you watch, Buffy," he said softly as her breathing evened out. "I'll be more than good as the father to our child."

 

 

Part Eight

 

Buffy's alarm went off and she slapped the snooze bar, then flicked the on/off button once to reset the alarm for the next morning, all without thought. Slowly opening her eyes, she stretched her arms above her head and froze. She wasn't alone.

Turning her head, she found herself face-to-face with a sleeping Spike. He was on his side, his head laying on his left arm, his other hand still resting on her swollen stomach.

She looked past him briefly to note that the shades and curtains were adequately keeping the sun out, then returned her eyes to him. "‘You're kinda cute when your mouth doesn't get in the way,'" she quoted softly, then gently moved his hand so she could get out of bed.

"Morning, Mom," Buffy greeted half an hour later as she entered the kitchen. She snagged an English Muffin from the bag on the counter and popped it in the toaster. "Guess who decided to set up camp in my bedroom?"

Joyce hid her grin, having heard the two bottle blond's bickering when they came in the previous night. "Who?" she asked innocently.

"Spike, the annoying bloodsucker," Buffy said. She poured herself a glass of juice and downed it in five, large gulps. "To bad my shades are too good, or I could have just vacuumed him up this morning."

"That's not a very nice thing to say about my grandbaby's father," Joyce told her, not bothering to hide her smile this time as Buffy scowled at her. "Have you told him yet?"

"Yeah, he knows," Buffy answered sullenly. She removed the English Muffin from the toaster and laved it with jelly, then took a bite and chewed thoughtfully before saying, "I'm not sure if he likes the news or not. One minute he's all protective, the next he's growling at me for who knows what reason."

"Buffy, that's a common symptom among men called ‘being male,'" Joyce said. "I think you're old enough now to depart my statement of womanly wisdom to you about them."

"And what's that, Mom?" Buffy asked.

"Men are strange."

*****

"He knows," Buffy said at lunch time.

"He does?" Willow said. "Was he mad?"

"I don't know," the Slayer replied truthfully as she ate. "I think he was hurt that I wasn't going to tell him. Really hurt."

"Well, Spike always did seem to be the sensitive type," Willow commented. Buffy gave her a skeptical look. "He did. You know -- Drusilla?"

"True," Buffy said. "He made that deal with me to stop Angel because he was super-jealous and upset by Drusilla's actions with my ex-honey."

"Maybe he has a little bit of soul still in him," Willow suggested.

"Actually, I found out from Giles that vampires without souls still have all their feelings from when they were human, but their bad side is brought to the forefront when vamped," Buffy told her best friend. At Willow's look, she added, " I know, big word for Buffy. I've been hanging around Giles too much."

"Wait, why would Giles tell you that?" Willow asked. "Doesn't that information just make your job harder?"

"I asked because of Angel," Buffy answered. "As for the other question, vampires are still demons who kill people and need to be stopped, just like humans who kill people need to be stopped."

"What about vampires who kill people who are the father to your baby?" Willow said as she stood, spotting Cordelia exiting the school. "I have to talk to Cordy. See you later in the library?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied, not really listening. "Later." She sat their thinking about Willow's question as the redhead walked away.

*****  
"Hey Cordy," Willow said as she walked up to the tall brunette.

"Hi Willow," Cordelia greeted with a smile. "Have you seen Xander? I need to tell him what to wear tonight."

"No, I haven't seen him," Willow replied. "But there's something I need to talk to you about that includes him..."

*****  
"I don't think he's going to be leaving, mmm, anytime soon," Buffy said later that afternoon at the mansion. She was laying on Angel's bed with her eyes closed, enjoying the felling of his hands. "He's got it in his, oh that feels good, thick head that he needs to pro-mmm-tect me and the baby."

Angel set down her left foot and picked up her right, then continued the massage. "Spike's right, much as I hate to say it," he told her. "You shouldn't be slaying. It's too dangerous."

Buffy raised her head and opened one eye to effectively glare at him. "Don't start." Angel sighed. She took that as compliance, and put her head back on the pillow.

"What I want to know is why he cares at all," Angel finally broke the silence as he moved up to her calves. "It's not like the baby is his responsibility." Buffy winced visibly and she felt Angel's hands stop. "Buffy, it's not his responsibility, right?" he said.

"Well..."

The dark-haired vampire stood abruptly and stalked across the bedroom to the far wall. Hands clenched into fists, he forced himself to calm down before asking, "When?"

"After the ghosts," Buffy replied quietly, pushing herself to a sitting position. She plucked at an invisible thread on the blanket next to her. "I had found out you guys were here at the mansion and I came to...to kill you."

"But instead you fucked Spike!" Angel yelled, spinning to face her, his yellow eyes blazing.

Buffy winced, keeping her head down. "It wasn't...I mean, I didn't..."

"Spit it out, Buffy," Angel growled. "Tell me why you would have sex with Spike," he spat the name, "under my own roof."

"Maybe because you were trying to kill me," Buffy started, her head coming up to glare at him as her anger grew. "Maybe because the ghosts brought your soul back for just a moment. Maybe because you were fucking Drusilla. Maybe because your actions with her hurt Spike and you knew it. Maybe because he knew exactly how I felt because he was feeling the same way over losing the person he loved!"

Buffy was on her feet, stalking over to the souled vampire to poke him in the chest with each sentence. "You have no right to dictate who I chose to make love to! And I wanted to make love with Spike! We both wanted it and it was wonderful! And it was just what we both needed to survive until you could be stopped!"

Angel's human mask had dropped over his features through her tirade and he stared at her in shame. Dropping his eyes after a moment, he mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"Well, you should be," Buffy said, walking away from him, her arms cradling her belly. She sat down on the edge of the bed. She sniffed and wiped a hand across her eyes before she continued. "I never expected to get pregnant. You said that vampires couldn't have children."

"I didn't know we could," Angel replied quietly, not moving from his spot.

"I never expected him to come back, either," she said, her voice thick with tears. "He told me he'd take Drusilla and leave and never come back. Now he's here and he knows and I don't know what to do."

She was crying fully now, and Angel went over and sat next to her on the bed, pulling her into his arms. "Shh, it's ok, Buffy," he murmured comfortingly. "I'm not mad at you. I was only surprised, that's all."

"I know," Buffy whispered between tears. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to be hurt. Especially because you are hurting enough over what happened those six months your soul was gone and what happened to you in Hell."

Angel rubbed small circles on her back, his chin resting on the top of her head. His eyes were full of sadness and pain as he continued whispering comforting words to her.

"Angel, what am I going to do?" Buffy asked quietly, sniffling as the tears slowed. "Spike is not you. He doesn't have a soul. He still kills people. It's my duty to stake him, whether he's my baby's father or not. But..."

"But you don't want to because he's the baby's father," Angel finished for her. Then he added with understanding, "In the back of your mind, as long as you felt Spike was alive and happy somewhere, your baby would always have a father -- even if they never met."

"Yeah," Buffy replied, wiping her face with her hand. "Why did he have to come back?"

"Fate," Angel said as she straightened and looked up at him. He brushed a stray tear off her cheek with his thumb. "Or really bad luck."

"Very funny, Deadboy," Buffy growled playfully, pulling herself back together. "Are we still going to class tonight?"

"Of course," he replied. "I'll pick you up after patrol, as usual. Faith wants me to do a double check of the vault with her, then I'm free."

"Ok," she said, standing. "I'm going to head home now and take a long bath. Well, if Mom is home to get me out again, that is."

Angel chuckled. "I'd hate to show up at eight and find you've turned into a giant prune."

 

 

Part Nine

 

"Spike," Angel said as he gestured with his hand to Faith. "Just the idiot I wanted to see."

"What do you want?" Spike asked, watching as Faith circled around behind him.

"We have a problem," Angel told him. "And it goes beyond you having sex with my woman."

Spike snorted. "She wasn't your woman then and she isn't now." He turned slightly so he could keep his eye on the second Slayer. "At least, she didn't act like your woman when she cried out my name as she came, her hot, tight body wrapped around me." Angel growled and the blond vampire smirked. "What's wrong, mate? Jealous?"

"Soul-boy, who got into B's pants ain't the point," Faith said. "I have places to be, vampires to kill, so can we move storytime along?"

Angel looked past Spike and nodded at Faith, making Spike's grin widen. "Whipped by another Slayer, eh?"

"Spike, shut up," Angel told him. "We need to talk about Buffy."

"What about her?" Spike asked warily.

"If you're going to stay in Sunnydale, you're going to have to stop hunting," Angel said.

"Yeah, right," Spike scoffed.

"Angel is right, Blondie," Faith said. "B doesn't want you dust because of the tyke, but she will off you if you continue feeding from people. Capice?"

"I'm not feeding from bloody livestock," Spike growled.

"It's either that, or leave," Angel stated.

"You could always go to Willy's," Faith suggested. "He's got Chateau le Human in stock. And some pretty damn good scotch."

"Think about it, Spike," Angel said, gesturing to Faith. Without another word, the two brunettes left.

*****  
"What happened?" Xander groaned as he returned to consciousness.

"Um, Spike, yeah. He wanted me to do that, er, love spell. So, he kidnaped us," Willow lied, sitting next to Xander on the bed in the old, burned-out factory. "How are you feeling? Do you need to barf?"

"My head hurts," Xander replied, rubbing his forehead. He tried to sit up, but felt woozy. "Ok, not moving anytime soon. Tell me our options of getting out of this one, Wills."

"Well, I figure either...I do the spell and he kills us or I don't do the spell and he kills us," Willow said.

"Give me a third."

"He's drunk again. Maybe he'll forget about us and we starve to death," she replied. "That's the best one."

Xander tried to sit up again and Willow caught him before he fell backwards, bringing her face-to- face with him. "We shouldn't," she said as their eyes met.

"Exemption for impending death situation," Xander replied, then pulled her down for a kiss.

They broke off when they heard a gasp. "Oh god," Cordelia said, bringing a hand up to her mouth.

"Cordelia," Xander said, staring at his girlfriend standing in front of the bed.

"Oh god, Oz," Willow said when she saw her boyfriend next to Cordelia.

"We need to get out of here," Oz told them, his face unchanged at what he witnessed.

Cordelia turned and ran up the stairs out of the basement. Xander scrambled from the bed and took off after her. "Cordy, wait!"

When they were gone, Willow met Oz's eyes and felt her own filling with tears. "Oz, I'm so sorry. It's not what you think..."

"I know," Oz interrupted, moving until he was standing directly in front of her. "Cordelia told me everything on our way over. Her car broke down," he added to her unasked question.

"Oh," Willow said. "But still, everything inside of me feels so bad that I hurt you. I never imagine anything could feel this horrible."

"Willow," Oz said, framing her face with his hands. "Do you love Xander?"

"No," she answered immediately. "I don't even know why-"

"Because you've been friends forever. Because you loved him for almost as long. Because you were curious. Because I haven't marked you as mine and mine alone," Oz told her. "But that's about to change."

Willow's eyes widened just before he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. Then everything disappeared but the sensations.

*****  
"Cordy, wait," Xander said, panting slightly as he caught up with her.

"Xander, whatever you have to say, save it," Cordelia spat. "I'm not interested." She stormed away from him, then stopped and stomped back. "You jerk! How could you! I am sick of you fawning all over other girls! First Buffy, now Willow! What is wrong with you?!"

"I don't know!" Xander yelled back. He grit his teeth, then repeated more calmly, "I don't know."

"Tell me, Xander. Did you like kissing her or did you like the idea of doing something you weren't suppose to be doing?" Cordelia asked.

Xander paused and thought about it. "Actually, neither of them," he replied. "Not that kissing Willow was bad, she just wasn't you." He gave her a pained, but goofy grin. "She didn't fight with me before, during or after."

"But why?" Cordelia said, getting to the heart of her plan with Willow, made after the redhead told her what had been happening between the old friends.

"Because I don't want to lose her," Xander confessed quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets and ducking his head. "Call me a hypocrite, but seeing her spend all her time with Oz made me feel like she was abandoning me. She's my best friend, Cordy. She has been all my life. I don't know what to do without knowing she'll always be there for me."

Cordelia's face softened. "Xander, she's not going anywhere just because she has Oz," she told him. "She's not leaving you even if she goes to Harvard or some other school that's not here. She's only finding love for herself because you found love."

Xander's head shot up and he met her gaze. "You...you love me?"

Cordelia nodded. "Of course, lame brain. I wouldn't be with you otherwise or tried so hard to keep you. You dress terribly."

A large smile broke across Xander's face. "And you still have no tact, but I don't mind." He offered her his arm and led her to Oz's van. "So, um, how much groveling do you want me to do, oh great wise woman?"

"First of all, dinner at a big, fancy restaurant," Cordelia told him. She gave him a small grin. "When you can afford it." She opened the rear door and climbed in. "Second, flowers. And chocolate. I like both."

Xander climbed in the van next to her. "And third?" he asked.

"Kissing," she replied. "Lots and lots of kissing."

"I think that can be easily arranged," he told her, then pulled the van doors shut.

 

 

Part Ten

 

"Mom, I'm leaving," Buffy called as she stood by the open front door.

"Where are you going, Slayer?" Spike asked as he came out of the darkness of the living room, startling her.

"Spike! You jerk, you scared me," Buffy said, her hand pressed over her pounding heart.

"Tisk, tisk," Spike said. "I shouldn't be able to sneak up on you like that." She glared at him, then turned to go. "You didn't say where you were going, pet."

"You're right, I didn't," she replied. Angel honked the horn a second time. "Angel is waiting. Don't eat my Mom, or I will boil you alive."

Spike followed her out of the house, closing the front door behind him. He prevented her from opening the passenger door on the Blazer and scowled at his sire through the closed windows. "You're not going anywhere with the great poof unless you tell me where. You're carrying my baby and I have a say in where you go with him."

Buffy arched her brow at his outburst, then grinned. "You're right. I am carrying your baby." She turned and opened the back door of the car. "Hop in, Daddy."

Spike eyed her warily, just as he did Angel an hour earlier, then got in the car. Angel glared at him over the seat, but said nothing as Buffy climbed in the passenger side. "All set," the blond Slayer cheerfully said, giving Angel a wink.

Angel caught on and grinned. "This should be fun," he commented to her as he put the car in drive.

"Oh yeah," she agreed, buckling her seat belt. She turned and said sweetly over her shoulder, "Buckle up, Spike. I wouldn't want you hurt in an accident."

*****  
Spike stood somewhat dumbfounded in the doorway as he looked in the large, carpeted classroom filled with pregnant women and several men. Buffy happily exchanged greetings with everyone, as did Angel, before the Slayer grabbed his arm and dragged him into the room.

"Guys, guess who's back from his dance tour?" she said loudly to the occupants of the room. All conversation died down as everyone turned to stare at him. "This is Spike, ballet dancer extraordinaire and my baby's father."

Angel had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud at the expression on Spike's face. The others in the class started asking questions immediately about the story Buffy had told when they first joined the Lamaze class. He could see the confusion and a healthy dose of fear in his childe's eyes and he let loose a chuckle.

Buffy looked over at Angel and winked. "He's a little shy," she told her friends and classmates, breaking into their questions. She slid her arm around Spike's waist under his duster. "And he doesn't like to brag...much." She reached down and goosed him under the coat, causing him to make a funny noise.

Spike glared down at Buffy, who gave him an innocent smile. "Baby or not, you are dead," he hissed at her so the others wouldn't hear.

"Promises, promises," Buffy replied, then gave him an air kiss. The instructor called the class to order and she led him to her usual spot on the floor. Angel took a seat in one of the chairs set up along the perimeter of the room and sat back to watch the show.

"It looks like we have a newcomer to class," the instructor, Jackie, said. "Buffy, will you do the official honors."

"Sure," Buffy grinned. "Like I said, this is Spike." She leaned her head on the blond vampire's shoulder. "He just got back into town after a very long tour with his dance troupe. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw me." The class chuckled. "But that didn't deter him from some of those activities in the brochures."

Spike frowned as the class all out laughed at her comment. He didn't know if he should be insulted or not. Buffy nudged him and he looked down at her. She gestured with her head to say something. "Um, hello."

"Hi, Spike," the class said as one, inciting more fits of laughter. Spike mentally groaned and then started to picture all the things he was going to do to the Slayer when they got home.

"Alright, you guys, settle down," Jackie said. "Since Spike has joined us, why don't we review the basics. Everyone take your positions, please."

Men and women started to help their pregnant partners to sit on the floor and Angel chuckled as he watched Spike try to aid Buffy. She was making it as difficult as possible for the blond vampire. "This is better than cable," Angel said quietly to himself.

"Spike, take off your coat," Buffy told Spike after he had finally gotten her onto the floor. She shrugged out of her own jacket and gave it to him. "Give them to Angel."

Spike took the proffered jacket and practically stalked over to his sire. When he saw the laughter in Angel's face, he growled, "Shut up, you pillock." Thrusting Buffy's coat at Angel, he took off his duster and tossed it on the chair next to the dark-haired vampire. "Stay out of my pockets," Spike said, then went to rejoin Buffy.

*****  
The class went by in a blur for Spike. He had pretty much given up hope of understanding his role as coach. "It's just a bunch of bloody breathing," he muttered. "Anyone can do that."

"Except for you," Buffy said with a giggle. He scowled at her as he helped her to her feet.

"That was entertaining," Angel commented with a smirk as he rose from his seat. He handed Buffy her jacket, knowing the Slayer wouldn't want assistance putting it on.

"Sod off," Spike grumbled, putting on his own duster.

"Aw, did Spikey not have fun?" Buffy asked. He glared at her. "Hey, you're the one who insisted on knowing where I was going. Besides, as you pointed out, you're the baby's father." She turned to Angel and smiled up at him. "Ice cream?"

"As always," Angel said, offering her his arm. She took it and they left the classroom together, a angry blond vampire trailing behind them.

But the anger was more from Buffy's arm linked with Angel's than the class.

 

 

Part Eleven

 

Spike was staring sullenly off into the night as Buffy and Angel chatted while eating ice cream. He was peeved that they were so chummy, though for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. Digging out a cigarette from the depths of his pockets, he lit it and inhaled deeply.

Buffy stopped talking suddenly and glared at him. With a frown, he exhaled the smoke away from the table, holding the cigarette down by his side, all purposeful actions. "What?"

"Nothing," Buffy replied, her glare turning to a puzzled look. She had been about to yell at him about second hand smoke and pregnancy, but when she saw him doing things so she wouldn't breathe that smoke in made her confused. Spike grumbled something unintelligible and went back to staring off into the night.

"When is your next doctor's appointment?" Angel asked, returning to the conversation he'd been having with Buffy.

"Thursday evening," Buffy replied. "Giles is suppose to drive me this time. I think he just wants to see the baby on the monitor for his research on vampire-Slayer hybrid babies."

Spike turned his head and frowned at her. "The Watcher is doing what?"

"Research on me and the baby," Buffy answered. "There's nothing out there in bookland that he can find on a hybrid."

"A hybrid?" Spike scowled. "He's my son, not a bloody science project. You tell your Watcher to bugger off."

"I will not," she scowled back.

Spike glared at her and a silent battle of wills went on for several moments before he growled, "I will take you to his appointment and then I'll tell your Watcher to-"

"Hi guys!" Willow greeted cheerfully on Oz's arm, interrupting the blond vampire. Cordelia and Xander came up to the table carrying drinks for the other couple. "How was Lamaze class?"

A smile spread across Buffy's face and Angel chuckled. "Why don't you ask Spike?" Buffy replied, scooting her chair closer to the blond vampire so the others could pull up seats.

"You went to Lamaze class, Spike?" Willow said in amazement. Spike grumbled again and shot a glare at Buffy as everyone sat down.

"He was pretty good, too," Buffy complimented, giving Spike a wink. "Even though it's only breathing." She turned back to Willow and took in her best friend's excited air. "So, what have you guys been doing?"

Willow blushed scarlet and buried her face on Oz's shoulder, while Xander and Cordelia exchanged private smiles. "Not much," Xander replied. "Just hanging out."

Buffy studied each of her friends, then looked at Angel, who shrugged.

"Is this a private shindig, or can anyone join?" Faith asked as she came up behind Buffy.

"Hey Faith," Buffy greeted. "How was patrol?" The blond Slayer looked around the crowded table, then grinned mischievously. With as much grace and quickness a pregnant woman can have, she slid out of her chair and sat on Spike's lap. "Have a seat, Pete," she told Faith.

Spike dropped his cigarette and wrapped his arms around Buffy in instant reaction so she wouldn't fall off. His face reflected complete surprise and she giggled.

"Thanks, B," Faith said, sitting in the abandoned chair. "And patrol was boring. None of Trick's goons were running around. It sucks."

"Do you think he's planning something?" Willow asked, her color returning to normal.

"God, I hope not," Cordelia said. "I have a spa appointment this week, plus a dinner to go to at the Country Club, which means I have to dress Xander."

"Don't you just love her priorities?" Xander teased.

"I guess I could ask Willy," Buffy said. "I'll go over there tomorrow after school."

"No, you won't," Spike said clearly, his tone dead-serious.

Suddenly, everyone wanted to be somewhere else. "Bye, Buffy, " Willow said as she and Oz stood with Xander and Cordelia. "Call me."

"See ya in school," Xander added. The four quickly walked away.

"Later, B," Faith said as she stood. "Come on, Soul-boy. Give me a ride in that fancy truck of yours."

Angel stood as well, having been on the receiving end of the pregnant Slayer's anger. "Goodnight, Buffy," he said, then left with Faith.

Buffy watched as all he friends vanished in less than thirty seconds and burst out laughing. "Did you...did you...," she tried to say as tears of laughter streamed down her cheeks.

Spike gave her a strange look. "Slayer, are you ok?" he asked in confusion.

Her laughter increased when she looked at him and she was having trouble breathing. Spike tightened his arms around her as she shook, her own arms wrapping around her stomach. "Oh god," she gasped. "I can't breathe."

The vampire's expression changed to one of worry and he shifted in his chair in order to pull her closer to him. "What's wrong? Do I need to take you to the infirmary?" he said, preparing to stand.

"What?" Buffy giggled. "No, I'm fine. It's just so funny!"

"You lost me, pet," Spike said.

"Not too hard to do," she teased, calming down. At his scowl, she let out a final giggle, then said, "They all ran out of here so fast. They're afraid of me."

"Why would they be afraid of you?" he asked, still confused.

"Have you ever been around a pregnant woman, Spike?"

"Not really," he answered.

"Well, I'll explain it to you in small words so you can understand," Buffy said with a grin. "I have lots of mood swings. I fought my way out of Hell with ease because I got pissed off."

Spike still had no clue what she was talking about, but he humored her. "Got it."

She rolled her eyes and wiggled, trying to get more comfortable. Then her eyes widened when she felt the distinct effects of her moments. She met his gaze and flushed. "Um, sorry. Though why you would think I'm desirable looking like this is beyond me."

"Slayer, you're always desirable to me," Spike replied in a low voice.

"Er, th-thanks," she said, blushing a deeper shade of pink. She was now having difficulty breathing for an entirely different reason. She wanted to blame it all on her wacky hormones, but then she'd only be half right.

"Come on, luv," Spike said quietly. "Let's go home."

*****  
"God, my back hurts," Buffy complained as they arrived back at her house. She put both her hands on her lower back and began kneading her muscles. "Being pregnant sucks."

"So does being a vampire," Spike joked. Buffy groaned at his pathetic pun as they headed up the walk. "Do you want me to rub your back for you?" he asked.

"That would be wonderful," she replied, opening the door. Joyce was coming down the stairs as they entered. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey. Hello, Spike," Joyce greeted. "How was class?"

"Fun," Buffy replied. "Spike played coach."

"Really?" Joyce said. "Is this a permanent change?"

Buffy glanced at Spike, then shrugged. "I don't know. Angel's been doing this with me for-"

"I want to do it," Spike interrupted, a scowl on his face at the mention of his sire. "The poof can take a walk."

"What if I don't want you there?" Buffy said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Tough," he replied. "That's my baby you're carrying and I'm going to be your bloody coach."

Joyce stifled her laughter as they bickered until Buffy threw up her arms in frustration and stormed up the stairs. Then she smiled at Spike and asked, "You do know that, as Buffy's coach, you are in the delivery room with her, right?"

"Yeah," Spike answered, not really hearing her. He was staring up the stairs, anxious to follow the Slayer, although he couldn't explain why.

Joyce noticed his distraction and shook her head. "She likes the vanilla scented lotion. It's in the bathroom on the sink." Heading for the kitchen, she paused when she heard him ascend the stairs. "I can't believe I'm playing match-maker for my daughter with a vampire," she said to herself.

*****  
Spike stopped at the bathroom and picked up the lotion, then knocked on Buffy's open door. "Slayer, do you still want that back rub?"

Buffy was sitting on the edge of her bed, attempting to reach her shoes when he asked the question, and she looked at him in disbelief. "I don't get you," she said, repeating the statement she made when he carried her home from the vault.

He shrugged and entered the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He set the lotion down on the dresser and shed his duster, tossing it over the desk chair. He then smirked as she continued to try to get to her shoes. "I hope you don't get any bigger, Slayer, or you won't be able to see your feet at all."

"Shut up," Buffy told him. He chuckled and walked over to her, pulling the obstinate shoes off along with her socks. He grabbed the hem of her sweater and yanked it over her head before she could stop him. "Spike!"

Spike froze, the blue fuzzy sweater in his hands, as his gaze landed on her. He had thought she'd be wearing another sports top, not the white, lacy bra that barely held her heavy breasts. He could see her dark areolas through the material, her golden skin in pleasing contrast to the whiteness of the bra. Her stomach was protruding, hard and rounded, completing the picture. "Cor, you're beautiful," he whispered.

Buffy blushed and snatched the sweater from him, holding it in front of her. "Pervert," she said, although her voice was trembling rather than angry.

He reached out and gently straightened one strap, causing her to inhale sharply at the contact. He swallowed heavily and took a step away, then cleared his throat. "Can you lay on your stomach?" he asked, moving over to the dresser to get the lotion and some control. He adjusted his painful erection beneath his jeans, trying to will it away, but the image he'd just witnessed was burned into his mind.

"No," she replied, her heart racing. "I can lay on my side, though."

"Go ahead," he instructed. He waited facing the other way until he heard her stop moving on the bed. Then he turned, lotion in hand, and had to fight to keep from groaning out loud. She was still clutching the sweater against her chest, laying on her side, the smooth expanse of her back catching his eye. He should never have come back to Sunnydale.

Moving behind her, he sat on the bed and kicked off his shoes, then turned so he could easily access her lower back. Opening the lotion, he poured some into his hand, then set it on the night stand. After rubbing his palms together, he gently began rubbing the muscles above the waistline of her pants.

"That feels nice," Buffy said quietly, closing her eyes and giving into the relaxing sensations. Spike continued all the way up her back, kneading her muscles with his strong, never-tiring hands. She sighed, content despite that the vampire behind her was suppose to be her enemy. "Can I keep you?"

Spike chuckled at her sighed question. He bent over and whispered in her ear, "You can keep me as long as you want, luv." Then he straightened and continued to work his magic on her back.

 

*****

Part Twelve

 

Buffy had fallen asleep under Spike's deft fingers. He marveled at the fact that, for the second time, the Slayer trusted him that much to be able to sleep in his presence. He was laying behind her on the bed, head propped up by his right hand, as he looked down at the side of her peaceful face.

"What are you doing to me, Slayer?" he whispered, using his left hand to brush a stray lock from her cheek. "It was suppose to be just that day."

He ran his hand lightly over her shoulder, down her side, then to her bare waist. "I've been thinking about you, you know," he continued his one sided conversation. "Ever since you sneaked out of my bedroom door at that bloody mansion. I worked my arse off to get my strength back, worrying more about you than about Drusilla with Angelus. Of course, that really brassed me off. Me, the killer of two Slayers, worried about a third one."

Gently, he let his hand run down over her swollen abdomen as far as he could reach without moving. "Did you know, those two that I killed, I don't really even remember what they looked like? I do recall how I killed them -- I won't tell you the wonderful, blood-and-guts details - but I can picture their deaths quite easily. You, on the other hand, are all I can see when I close my eyes. It's bloody annoying," he said softly, with an inflection of tenderness.

"When Dru and I got to Brazil, it just wasn't the same," he confessed, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her taut skin. "I gave her everything: beautiful jewels, beautiful dresses with beautiful girls in them, but nothing made her happy. And she would flirt. The last straw was when I caught her making out on a bench with a friggin' Chaos Demon. You wouldn't want to see one of those, Slayer, they're all slime and antlers, it's disgusting."

Spike sighed, his gaze moving to the butterflies on the wall. "Trouble is, it didn't bother me as much as it should have. Oh, I was right pissed that she was cheatin' on me -- again - but it was more of an ego thing than because of my feelings for her. I probably should have known things were bound to end, especially once I started seein' you when I tossed off," he chuckled quietly. "I bet ol' soulful has a grip like steel."

Returning his eyes to her, his grin faded into a frown. "What is he to you, Slayer? Is that wanker still the love of your life, or have you come to your senses and left the stupid git? Remind me to ask you tomorrow about that," he told her. "I hope you told him to shove off. I hate that prick. Although I like the soul-having one better than the bloody demon."

Buffy let out a sleep-filled sigh and snuggled deeper into the pillow. "You are very beautiful, Slayer, more so than I remembered," Spike said softly, his eyes tracing her profile. "But I think it was your strength when Angelus had no soul that caught me. No matter what he threw at you, you didn't break. I don't think there's a single human around that would have survived all you've been through."

He leaned his head down and placed a soft kiss on the side of her neck. "That day I made love with you is one of my best memories," he whispered near her ear. His hand moved from her abdomen to pull on a cord that was around his neck, freeing a small, handwoven satchel.

"Sometimes I don't remember that I'm wearing this," he said, sitting up slightly on his forearm to free both hands. "I got it from that magick shop a few days after we shagged. Left that shop keeper alive and everything, though I rectified that the other day."

He studied the strands of dark brown, rust and olive green woven together to form the tiny bag. "I can't tell you what possessed me to get it or why its been around my neck ever since. Dru never said anything about it," he murmured. He opened the satchel and let its contents drop onto the bed between him and Buffy. "I think she was right when she said I'd gone soft."

On the off-white comforter laid the small, gold, cross necklace Buffy had left behind that fateful day.

*****  
Buffy woke up before her alarm went off to find Spike spooned against her back, his arm curved protectively around her pregnant body. She would be lying if she said she disliked the feeling of him pressed against her, but she tried to convince herself that she would feel that way even if it wasn't him.

It didn't work.

With a soft sigh, she let her mind wander to the dream she'd had. She'd walked into the magick shop to see Spike sitting in his wheelchair, talking to the shop keeper that had been found dead a few days ago. He had accepted something from the woman, then turned to face her and whispered, "That day I made love with you is one of my best memories."

Spike had then wheeled past her towards the door and she saw Angel standing in front of it. Spike rose out of the chair and punched the dark-haired vampire, then strode out of the shop. Angel looked at her and said, "Spike killed two Slayers and worried about a third." Then he slowly morphed into Drusilla, who sprouted antlers. "Beautiful dresses and beautiful girls, he sees you when he closes his eyes," the vampiress said. And that was all she could remember.

Buffy didn't know what to make of the dream, other than Spike's whispered statement. When she thought of that, she got pleasant chills down her spine. Mentally calling herself an idiot for dreaming about the peroxide-blond, she carefully maneuvered out of bed in order to get ready for school.

"You know, I think you might want to start charging Spike room and board," Buffy said a short while later to her mother. "He stayed here again. Maybe there's a sign outside that reads ‘Annoying Vampire Inn.'"

"As long as it doesn't say ‘Free breakfast,'" Joyce joked, as her daughter went about making breakfast for herself.

"Don't you even care that he stayed?" Buffy asked.

"Did he do something that I should care about?" Joyce countered with an arched brow. Buffy shook her head vehemently. "Then no."

"Sure, you cared about when I stayed with Angel, but not when there's a sexy demon sleeping in my bed," Buffy muttered.

"Sexy demon?" Joyce said, trying not to smile.

"I think I'll go to school now," the Slayer said, blushing. She grabbed her bag and went out the kitchen door. Thirty seconds later, she came back. "Um, can I get a ride?"

*****

"You didn't call me!" Willow exclaimed as she caught up to Buffy outside of the high school.

"Sorry," the blond Slayer apologized. "I fell asleep early."

"Oh, well, ok then," Willow said. "But next time, call me first!"

"Excited much?" Buffy said with a grin. She led the hacker over to a bench and sat down. "Alright, spill. Why the big smile?"

"Oz and I..., we..., yesterday...," Willow stammered, blushing.

Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Oh my god! You carpe'd Oz!"

"Shhh!" the redhead replied, her face turning more crimson. "Keep your voice down!"

"Willow!" Buffy squealed.

*****

"There are two beautiful ladies sitting at my table," Xander said as he sat down at lunch in the cafeteria with Buffy, Willow, Oz and Cordelia. He glanced at Cordelia and winked. "And one drop-dead gorgeous one."

"Why thank you, Xand," Buffy said, primping her hair exaggeratedly. She and Willow broke into giggles.

"So, what's on the agenda tonight?" Xander asked, digging into his lunch.

"Trick," Buffy said. "Like Faith said, he's been too quiet. I want to know why."

"Do you think he's planning something?" Willow said.

"He's a vampire, Willow," Cordelia replied. "Of course he's planning something."

"Are you going down to Willy's?" Oz asked Buffy.

"Yeah. After school," Buffy said.

"I take it you won the fight with the Bleached Wonder," Xander said. "Should I stop by the coffee shop with a dustbuster?"

Buffy frowned. "Why would you do that?"

"Didn't Spike meet Mr. Pointy?" Xander asked.

"No," she answered.

"I think Buffy has the hots for dear old Dad," Cordelia said.

"Do not," Buffy replied, studiously looking down at her food.

"Come on, Buffy," Cordelia continued. "You had sex with the guy. There had to be some attraction to him. Unless you're a slut."

"Cordelia," Willow gasped. The brunette shrugged.

"I am not a slut," Buffy said, tears welling in her eyes.

"Then why did you sleep with him?" Cordelia asked.

"Cordy-" Xander warned, putting his hand on his girlfriend's knee.

"Because he is less of a demon than you are," the Slayer hissed, then stood and left as quickly as she could.

"Great going, Cordy," Willow said, rising to follow Buffy. Oz shook his head and left, as well.

"What?" Cordelia said.

"You know what," Xander told her. "And you owe Buffy an apology."

Cordelia stared into his furious eyes and then dropped her head. "You're right. That was stupid of me."

"Very," Xander agreed. She scowled at him, but stood to go find Buffy.

*****  
Buffy entered Willy's Alibi Bar and grinned when the unconventional owner announced her presence to the few vampires scattered around the room. They quickly left through the ‘back' entrance as she went up to the bar. "Hi, Willy."

"Hello, Slayer. What brings you by?" Willy asked, throwing a towel over his shoulder. "Come to take the offer to pose for my cousin?"

"I wanted to know if you've heard anything about Trick," Buffy said, ignoring his second question. Her hurt over what Cordelia had implied had vanished in a typical pregnant mood swing once the brunette cheerleader apologized.

"Now you know better than to ask me that," Willy replied. "I don't divulge what my clientele say about Trick planning a surprise for a certain vampire that has returned to town."

"I wouldn't want you to get in trouble," she said, smiling. "I won't even ask what sort of surprises Trick has."

"Thanks, doll," he said. "Those privy to the dozen or so vampires who frequent the place want to ensure that they can talk in safety."

"Got it," Buffy nodded. "Well, thanks for nothing."

"You're welcome, Slayer," Willy replied, as Buffy turned to go. "And don't forget to think some more on the offer." Buffy rolled her eyes at him, then left the bar.

*****

"So we're looking for a posse," Faith summarized later that evening at the library.

"Pretty much," Buffy said as she loaded up on stakes.

"And we want to stop them why?" Xander asked, passing out more slaying equipment to the others in the room. Buffy glared at him.

"Xander, just because Spike is an ass-er, idiot, he's still the baby's father," Angel answered the teen's question.

"Nice save," Oz commented.

"I gather we are going in our standard teams?" Giles inquired.

"Yup," Willow said. "You and Faith. Me, Oz and Angel. Cordelia, Xander and Buffy."

"Everyone have their radios?" Buffy asked. With their nods, she said, "Then let's go hunting."

 

 

Part Thirteen

 

 

"Hello, Spike," Joyce said as the vampire entered the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"

"Peachy," Spike answered, giving Buffy's mother a curious look.

"That's good," she replied. "Would you like some coffee? It's made." She moved towards the cupboard after he nodded, retrieving a mug and pouring the hot liquid into it.

"Joyce, can I ask you something?" Spike asked as he took the coffee from her.

"Of course," Joyce replied.

"Angel," he said after a moment, studying the colorful mug in his hands. "All the Slayer's friends seem to be comfortable around that tosser."

"And you wanted to know why, right?" Joyce surmised.

He nodded. "I know I'm never going to forgive the pillock," he grumbled.

"If you had been here when Angel returned from Hell, you might be singing a different tune," Joyce told him. "Even Rupert has forgiven him, although no one will ever forget."

"Why would my being here then make a difference?"

"Buffy had all of us take turns watching over Angel," she replied. "Those first few weeks, he mostly slept, but that sleep was filled with nightmares." Joyce paused to compose herself from the memories of Angel's painful features and his jerky movements when it was her turn. "His cries were so very haunting."

Spike still didn't understand, but perhaps Joyce was correct -- he had to have been there.

"Anyway," she continued. "We all spent time with him, helping him get his strength back and listening when he needed to talk. Now, he helps Faith and Buffy on patrols and is part of the ‘team' again."

"What about him and the Slayer?" he tried to ask casually.

Joyce saw right through him. Hiding her smile behind her raised mug, she replied, "They're friends, nothing more."

"Good," Spike muttered and took a long sip of the coffee. He set the mug down on the counter. "I'd best be off. Thanks for the coffee."

As he left, Joyce let out a small laugh. "As Buffy would say, jealous much?"

*****  
"Raven, Red Robin, we found them!" Cordelia yelled into the radio as the fight started. "By the mag-eek!" The brunette dropped the radio as her hair was grabbed from behind. Swinging around, she felt her scalp tear as she hit the vampire in the face with a large cross. He screamed, his face burning, and dropped her hair. She scrambled backwards away from him.

Buffy was fighting several vampires at once. Willy had said around a dozen. It turned out to be closer to twenty. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Xander and Cordelia team together and start beating off vampires.

"Come on, backup," Buffy muttered as she staked one of her attackers. Depending on where the others were, the aforementioned backup could get there in thirty seconds, or thirty minutes. And with this many vampires, the sooner they arrived, the better.

*****  
Spike heard the fighting before he saw it. And when he was close enough, all he could see was red as rage and fear encompassed him. With a loud roar, he launched himself at the three vampires around Buffy, breaking one's neck before he threw a second one as far as he could.

The fight Spike came upon was intense, despite there being eight -- now nine - against the posse of vampires. Trick had chosen some of his best minions because of Spike's reputation, and they were hard to defeat.

But with Spike joining into the fracas, the tide turned in the Scooby Gang's favor. Soon, the few vampires still walking tore down the street, running for their unlives.

"Phew, that was a hard one," Buffy panted, leaning back against a storefront window. She looked over all of her friends, making sure no one was hurt. Her perusal was abruptly halted, however, when Spike stepped directly in front of her and grabbed her chin. "Ow, Spike-"

"Do you know how bloody stupid that was?!" Spike yelled at her.

"Stupid?" Buffy said incredulously. "We save your unlife and you call me stu-"

She was cut off as he smashed his lips to hers, plunging his tongue into her open mouth, in a hard, punishing kiss.

*****  
Buffy glared at Spike as he followed her into the room. Since the kiss on the street, she hadn't seen him until that night. After leaving her breathless, he ordered Angel to take her home and vanished. Giles had quickly stepped aside when Spike had arrived at the Summers' residence, much to Buffy's dismay. All her Watcher had said was that Spike had more of a right to see the baby than he did. "Stupid Watcher," Buffy mumbled.

"What's that, pet?" Spike said as he looked at the various equipment in the small room.

"I said that I can't wait until we leave so I can shove a stake in you," Buffy told him.

He chuckled. "Really, luv, such violent thoughts. I like that."

The obstetrician entered, preventing her from retorting. "Hello, Buffy," Dr. Reynolds greeted. "How are you?"

"Fat, sore, hungry, and I have to pee," Buffy responded as usual. The doctor laughed as the slayer tried to climb onto the exam table. Spike was at her side immediately and helped her up. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Spike said quietly, gently squeezing her hips before stepping away.

"Um, Dr. Reynolds," Buffy said, confused by the vampire's actions. "This is Spike, the baby's father."

"Well, hello Spike," Dr. Reynolds said, extending her hand. "Buffy has told me so much about you, I feel I know you already."

"Oh really?" Spike said, arching his brow as he looked at the Slayer. Buffy was an appealing shade of red.

"Yes," Dr. Reynolds continued, getting the medical equipment ready. She missed Buffy's pleading look. "When Buffy first started coming to me, she was already five months along. I've had a trail of people coming with her. First her mother, then several of her friends and her Uncle, but never the baby's father. The day she came alone, we had a nice, long talk about you."

"All good things, I hope," Spike said, grinning at Buffy's discomfort.

Dr. Reynolds lifted up the bottom of Buffy's sweatshirt and squirted her swollen stomach with a thick substance. "Well, she said that I would have to meet you personally to see how handsome you were," the elderly, white-haired doctor looked over her half-glasses at Spike. "I can see she was right. You do have sexy cheekbones, young man."

His smile grew, emphasizing those very cheekbones. "Why thank you, ma'am," he said, tipping an invisible hat to her. Buffy let out a small groan and his eyes flicked to hers. "Anything the trouble, luv?"

Dr. Reynolds clucked her tongue. "Oh, I'm just embarrassing her, like I'm suppose to do," she said, checking the machine one last time before setting the paddle-wand on Buffy's stomach. "I take it you're home for awhile now?"

"Yes," Spike answered, watching in curiosity as the doctor ran the wand back and forth over the Slayer's swollen belly, spreading out the lubricant.

"Good," Dr. Reynolds said. "A husband should be with his wife when she's expecting. Ah, there we are."

Spike's head had shot up with the doctor's words of his supposed position in Buffy's life and froze when he saw the monitor. The image on the small, black and white screen hit him like a freight train. He was seeing the baby. His baby.

"Ten fingers, ten toes," Dr. Reynolds said, examining the monitor. "Plus that little finger between his legs. Looking good, Buffy."

"Thanks," Buffy replied absently as she studied Spike studying the monitor. There was an expression of complete awe on his face. She felt him find her hand, and she shifted her gaze in time to see him interlace his fingers with hers. He squeezed it somewhat tightly, unconsciously expressing his emotions through that little action.

Dr. Reynolds turned and glanced at the two, a grin on her weathered and wise face. She watched as Spike removed his eyes from the monitor to look at Buffy and was quite pleased to note the obvious love between them. "Let's take a listen, shall we?" she said, turning a dial.

The baby's rapid heartbeat filled the small room, making Spike's head shoot up once again. "What's that?" he asked.

"It's the baby, Spike," Buffy told him quietly. "You're hearing his heart beat."

Spike swallowed heavily as the emotions overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened them, he met Buffy's gaze squarely with tears in his eyes. "Cor, Buffy, that's our baby."

All Buffy's anger and bad feelings towards him disappeared that instant. It was replaced by a wave of happiness and something she couldn't name, and she whispered, "That's our baby."

 

 

Part Fourteen

 

The ride home from the doctor's office was made in comfortable silence. Buffy watched Spike from under her lashes as he drove, marveling over what had happened at the obstetricians. If she didn't have feelings stirring for the blond vampire before, she did now.

"Here we are, luv," Spike said, as he pulled into the driveway to the Summers' residence. He shut of the engine as Buffy undid her seatbelt in the car that had taken him almost all day to clean. Quickly, before she could do it, he was out of the car and around to her side, opening her door to help her out.

"Thanks," Buffy said, giving him a small smile.

"You're welcome," he replied, tucking the hand he still held into the crook of his arm and leading her towards her front door. "Slayer, I was, er, wondering if I could..., um...," he paused and took a quick, unneeded breath. Then, almost shyly, he finished his sentence. "Call on you."

"Call on me?" Buffy asked, confused. "Like on the phone?"

"No, that's not...it doesn't mean...," Spike said, stopping outside her front door. "I want to bring you out for dinner or something. Bloody hell, what's the word..." He scowled at the closed door, trying to come up with the proper, current terminology.

"You're asking me on a date?" Buffy said, her eyes widening.

"That's it!" Spike smacked his head with the palm of his free hand. "A date. I knew it had something to do with fruit."

The Slayer's astounded look turned to one of confusion.

"So, er, Sl-Buffy, a date? With me and, uh, you, that is...," he trailed off again, as frustration built from stumbling over the words. "You know, I haven't done this since I was a friggin' human."

Suddenly, Buffy broke into a beaming smile, his awkward attempt at asking her out going right to her heart. "I'd love to go out with you, Spike," she told him.

"Really?" Spike said, his face reflecting shock. Then he swiftly recovered. "I mean, good. Saturday. Around eight."

"Ok," she agreed.

"Right. Well, ‘night, luv," he said, bending and placing a quick kiss on her cheek. He turned and practically sprinted back to his car.

"‘Night," she replied softly, a happy flush staining her cheeks.

*****  
Spike was in game face, growling at his foe. His foe sat there, unnerved, at his threatening sounds. Shoving his chair away from the table, Spike stalked violently across the room, only to spin on his heel and glare menacingly back towards the table. "Get a bloody grip," he told himself, clenching his hands into fists.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down, the human mask descending over his features. Then slowly, he retook his seat and faced his opponent squarely. "Now, you're going to tell me where to take the Slayer, or I'm going to rip you to pieces, got it?" he stated.

With that threatening remark, Spike pulled the mocking Sunnydale Yellow Pages in front of him and opened it.

*****  
"But I look fat in this dress," Buffy said, making a face at herself in the dressing room mirror.

"Buffy, you look fat in everything," Cordelia replied, pulling another outfit off the hanger. Buffy glared at her.

"What Cordy means is that you're pregnant, Buffy," Willow said, diffusing the Slayer's anger. "So you're going to look pregnant in everything."

"That's what I said," Cordelia commented, handing Buffy the next dress. "Try this one."

"Why can't I not be pregnant?" Buffy pouted, letting the dress she'd been trying on fall to the floor, then stepped out of it.

Willow picked it up and replaced it on its hanger. "If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have a date with Spike," she said. "Unless you don't want to go out with Spike?"

"No!" Buffy exclaimed, then blushed furiously. "I mean, he asked me and I said yes already. I can't change my mind."

Cordelia and Willow exchanged glances, smiles on both their faces. "Are you sure that it doesn't have anything to do with your liking him?" Willow asked.

"I don't like him," the Slayer stated, scowling in the mirror at the new dress she'd put on. "He's annoying and smug and egotistical and weird and annoying..."

"You said that one already," Cordelia interrupted. "And denial isn't just a river in Egypt."

"Cordy, eat me," Buffy growled, shoving the dress off her body and onto the floor.

"Eew, no thanks. Do you know how much fat and salt there is in the human body?" Cordelia replied with a small grin.

Buffy and Willow burst out laughing at the brunette's horrible joke.

*****  
"Blondie's takin' B out on a date," Faith repeated, stabbing a piece of teriyaki chicken with her knife. She pulled it off with her teeth, and continued around the food. "I'm covering patrol myself tomorrow night, ‘less you feel like comin' with me."

Angel frowned at the open Chinese takeout container in one hand, chopsticks held perfectly in the other. Every Friday night, he and the brunette Slayer got together for dinner, usually carry-out, to dispel the loneliness that came from being outsiders to the tight-knit, high school group. "A date," he said, not liking the sound of the word.

Faith rolled her eyes, then pointed to another white box on the low table in front of him. "You gonna eat that?" When he didn't answer, she reached out and snatched it. "Hey, Soul-boy, the jealous look is not you. Go back to brooding."

Unbidden, the corner of his mouth turned up, as he raised his eyes to her. "Sorry, Faith. I'll try harder to keep my tortured expression in place," he said. Then he reached out and grabbed the container out of her hands. "And yes, I'm going to eat this."

*****  
"I can't believe that Buffy's going out with him," Xander said, shelving another book. "Angel was bad enough, but at least he had his soul."

"‘Everyone needs a warm personal enemy to keep him free from rust in the movable parts of his mind,'" Oz quoted, handing the top book of the pile he was carrying to the other teen. "Gene Fowler."

Xander looked at him strangely. "Ok, I'm going to pretend that made sense," he said, taking the book. He paused with the book halfway into its correct spot. "Wait a minute. Buffy better not be getting warm and personal with Spike. And her movable parts are what got her pregnant in the first place."

*****  
Friday, 10 December, 1999

I've been thinking recently that my diaries should be made into a television soap. The show could be called ‘Buffy, the Vampire Slayer,' and it could be part horror, part humour, and part drama. (I wouldn't mind if they got Anthony Stewart Head to play me. I saw him on stage once, in a reproduction of the musical ‘Chess.' Smashing job, he did.)

That wonderfully frustrating girl I call my Slayer has a vampire courting her. And this is the second one! Perhaps I should have given her the handbook when I'd first met her. Not dallying with the undead is Rule Number Three, right after ‘Always be prepared' and ‘Obey your Watcher.' But, alas, I did not, and she has proven time and time again that, because she doesn't follow the strict code of conduct for the Slayers, she really is one of the greatest.

If only she wouldn't insist on giving the old slap and tickle...

I shall leave that thought uncompleted, because it will do me no good to dwell on it. Buffy has a date tomorrow night with Spike, aka William the Bloody, father of her child. From my past entries about the peroxide-blonde vampire, I have noted how ‘human' he acts as compared to his undead brethren. I honestly believe he is capable of great love and devotion, in light of his relations with the vampiress, Drusilla. I have learned from Joyce that Drusilla had "broken up" with Spike, and that he was quite hurt because of it. She also noted that he was jealous of Angel when he questioned her about his sire's current relationship with Buffy.

Ah, there is the telephone. Perhaps it is the writer from that ‘Toy Story' picture the children insisted on my viewing the other day, interested in my telly idea.

Rupert Giles, Watcher

*****  
"Yes, Hank, he's a nice young-looking man," Joyce said into the phone, tongue in cheek. "I'd met him twice before, briefly. He only got back into town last week."

She stirred the sugar in her teacup. "No, he didn't know she was pregnant until he came back. You know our daughter. She didn't even tell us until she was five months along."

Joyce shook her head, wanting to throttle her ex-husband. "Hank, leave Spike alone. He's done nothing wrong...he did not have sex with her, then run out on her. He moved to Brazil, it's as simple as that," she lied to him.

"Fine, I'll set it up. Just call me with the date and time," she replied. "And Hank, no funny- business. I want my grandson to have a mother and a father."

 

 

Part Fifteen

 

Spike was nervous. He wiped his palms on his black dress pants, then straightened the patterned tie around his neck. He had flirted with his elderly neighbor at the motel he was staying in to tie it for him. Now all he wanted to do was rip it off, get back into his car, and drive as far away from Sunnydale as he could.

It had been close to a hundred years since he'd last dressed up for anything. He was glad he'd been smart enough to give himself and extra night to prepare for his first date with Buffy. Since he had an incredible urge to impress her, he'd picked a fancy restaurant to take her for dinner, and he'd gone to the mall to get appropriate clothing.

After briefly scowling at the empty bathroom mirror because of his nervousness, he grabbed his duster and headed out the door.

*****  
Spike was about to ring the bell when the door suddenly opened and a blond Slayer almost mowed him down.

"Bye Mom! Don't wait up!" Buffy yelled before closing the door behind her. She grabbed Spike's arm and practically dragged him towards his car. "Quick, she has a camera."

"A what?" Spike asked, confused by her actions. This wasn't how he pictured the date starting.

"A camera. You know, look through the little window and press the button, so you get a picture to use to embarrass me?" she replied.

"Oh." The vampire gave her a strange look, as he opened the car door for her.

"So, where are we going?" Buffy asked once they were underway.

"Dinner," Spike answered.

"Where at? The All-You-Can-Eat Human Bar?"

"Ha, ha, Slayer," he said. "Just for that, I'm not going to tell you."

"I'm a little overdressed for Bucky's Fondue hut," Buffy pointed out.

Spike glanced at her. "How could I tell under all that coat?"

She scowled at him and noticed his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "Nervous?"

"No," he replied quickly. Too quickly.

"Uh-huh," Buffy said. "Then what's with the tapping? Got a song stuck in your head?"

Spike gripped the wheel and lied. "Yeah, it's bloody annoying. Some teeny-bopper group. Their friggin' voices haven't even changed yet.

She gave him a skeptical look, but didn't comment, and the rest of the ride to the restaurant was in silence.

*****

"Flies," Spike whispered in her ear as he escorted her towards the entrance.

"Wha-" Buffy started to ask, then clacked her jaw shut and glared at him. He chuckled and patted her hand, which was resting on the crook of his arm in an old-fashioned manner.

The restaurant was four-star, located near the Sunnydale Country Club, and was patronized by the more affluent of the town. They had walked to the door only because Spike didn't want the valets to drive his car. The Slayer agreed with him on that fact, considering the windows were spray-painted over.

"Don't kill the anyone, remember that," Spike muttered to himself, as they went through the decorative glass doors, held open by a smartly dressed doorman, and into the foyer.

Buffy was looking around with wide eyes, drinking in the ornate room, with its gleaming gold chandeliers, soft pink furniture, and expensive artwork on the walls. "What did you say?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from her perusal to look at him.

But Spike didn't answer. Instead, he put on his ‘I'm a good bloke, not a bloodsucking fiend' smile as they came to the maitre de. "Reservation for Bradley," he said, setting two fingers lightly on the podium on top of a large, folded bill.

"Welcome Mr. Bradley," the maitre de said, taking the proffered money with fluent ease. "If you would like to check your coats..."

Spike nodded and turned to Buffy, who was unbuttoning hers. The room suddenly became stifling as she shrugged the coat off her shoulders. He tugged at his collar, trying to loosen it enough so he could swallow. As her arms were thrust back, causing her ample breasts to elevate and thrust up against the material of her dress, he had to get out of there. Now. "I...uh...be back."

Buffy was stunned when Spike abruptly turned and practically bolted from the restaurant. Coat hanging from her fingers, she glanced at the maitre de, then down at her dress. Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back and held her head up high. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall behind you, ma'am," the maitre de answered. She nodded and walked away.

*****  
"You're two hundred fucking years old," Spike growled, banging his head on the hard wall around the side of the restaurant. "Get," "A," "Grip." He spun and started thumping the back of his head on the wall instead. "Where's all that bloody control you pride yourself on? Just because the Slayer looks delicious, don't mean you can grab her and shag her in a bleedin' four-star restaurant!"

"Spike, why are you banging your head against the wall at my favorite restaurant?"

Spike stopped and turned to see Cordelia standing there, arms crossed, dressed to the nines. "Well?" she said. Then a look of realization stole over her face, and she smirked. "I guess you like the dress. I told Buffy she'd turn you into a blubbering idiot. Do I know the male gender, or what?"

*****  
"That bastard!" Buffy growled, the tears she cried moments before replaced with anger. "I'm going to shove a stake so far up his ass it'll pierce his goddamn brain!"

"Temper, temper," Cordelia said, having come into the ladies room during Buffy's outburst. "I didn't go through all that trouble of getting you a decent dress for you to mess it up."

"It doesn't matter," Buffy scowled, then sat down heavily on one of the couches. "Spike took one look at me and ran away." She started to cry again.

"Buffy, don't cry, you already look like a raccoon," Cordelia told her, reaching into her purse for a Kleenex. "Dab, don't wipe."

"Thanks," she replied, taking the tissue from the brunette, then wadding it up in her hand. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Some stuffy dinner with my daddy's associates," Cordelia answered. "At first, I was kinda pissed that I had to come, but now I'm glad I did, seeing as how you two bottle-blonds have already screwed up your first date. Oh, by the way, your roots are really showing."

"Gee, thanks, Cordy. Something I so wanted to know," Buffy sulked.

"You're welcome,"Cordelia replied. "Now, let's get your face fixed up again. Spike's waiting out there like a fifteen-year-old with his first boner."

"What?!" Buffy said, wide-eyed.

"I told you that dress would turn him into an idiot," Cordelia told her.

"But he...he..."

"Got so excited, he wanted to take you on the floor in the lobby," the cheerleader explained. "Fun for you, but not really the best place to get naked. Especially when you're...well, you."

"Thanks," Buffy replied wryly, then stood and went back over to the mirror. "God, look at me. I look like Shamu."

"Girl, Shamu never looked this good in violet," Cordelia said, then helped put the Slayer back in order.

*****  
Spike alternated between glaring at the maitre de, glaring down the hall and glaring at his tie. Cordelia had dragged him back into the restaurant over ten minutes ago, promising that she'd fix the mess he'd undoubtably created by acting like a complete male.

He saw the ladies room door open, and thought that it was about time. Then all coherent thoughts left his mind again as Buffy was practically pushed out the door.

"Cordelia," Buffy hissed to the girl shoving her from behind.

"Go," Cordelia told her. "I'll check your coat with Spike's."

Buffy walked forward under her own power before Cordelia shoved her across the room. She walked up to Spike, who was standing in front of the maitre de's podium. "Um, yeah."

"Cor, you are so bloody beautiful," Spike barely whispered loud enough for her to hear.

But hear it she did, and a shy smile crossed her face. "You look pretty good, too," she replied. She reached out and tugged on his tie. "I like the tie."

"I hate the fucking thing," Spike told her, then grinned, the awkwardness of the start of their date broken. "Shall we dine, Slayer?" He offered his arm.

"Only under one condition," Buffy said, taking his arm.

"What's that, luv?" he asked.

"You have to call me ‘Buffy,'" she replied. "Tonight, I'm not the Slayer. I'm just a girl on a date."

"Whatever you say...Buffy."

 

*****

Part Sixteen

 

The dining room was spacious, with white linens and flickering candle centerpieces at each table. Buffy and Spike were seated in a quiet corner, as the vampire had requested when he made the reservations. His ‘tip' to the maitre de insured those arrangements when they arrived.

"What would you like to have, luv?" Spike asked, looking at Buffy over the top of the embroidered menu.

"Everything," Buffy replied. "It all looks delicious."

"Not as delicious as you look," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He never realized how sexy pregnant women could be until he saw the Slayer in the violet dress she was wearing. Her hair was pulled up in a way that made him want to take all the pins out and run his hands through it. He silently groaned.

"Are you going to have something?" Buffy asked.

"You," he muttered. Then he answered more loudly, "Yes, I'm going to have something, pet. And you can have whatever you want."

"Never say that to a pregnant woman, Spike," she said, a grin crossing her face.

The waiter came and took their orders under Spike's glare each time the man tried to look down Buffy's dress at her ample bosom.

"Geez, Spike, what bit you in the butt?" Buffy asked as soon as the waiter left. "He was just taking our order."

"He was trying to see down your dress!" Spike hissed. "Bloody prick. I ought to rip his eyeballs out of the sockets and..."

"I don't want to know," she interrupted, holding up her hand with a scowl. Then she smiled at him. "But thank you for ‘protecting my virtue,' as Giles would put it."

"Well, uh, you're welcome," Spike replied, ducking his head. He saw his tie and scowled at it. He hated the thing.

"So, what have you been doing since you left?" Buffy asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.

"Killing, maiming, torturing -- the usual," he answered with a wry smile. She rolled her eyes. "Actually, I've mostly been arguing with Dru. And losing."

"You probably would have gotten better results arguing with a tree," Buffy told him.

"Leave Drusilla alone," Spike scowled. "Or I'll start on poofy."

"Fine," she replied.

"Good," he said.

They stared at each other for a few moments, then they both looked away as another uncomfortable silence descended between them.

Their drinks and salads came, and Spike slammed down the liquor before the waiter even set the plates down. He gestured for another, then started poking at the plate in front of him. He looked up to see Buffy happily munching away. "How can you eat this?"

"It's good for you," she replied, then frowned. "Well, it's good for me, anyway."

"I'd rather eat the rabbit," Spike commented, pushing a cherry tomato around with his fork.

Buffy burst out laughing and the tomato shot across the table when he jerked in surprise. It hit her right in the chest, then bounced back and landed perfectly on top of her salad. This only made the Slayer laugh harder, and Spike couldn't help but join in.

"Cor, Sla-Buffy," he amended between laughs. "I'm sorry."

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Buffy giggled. "By the way, good shot."

"I was aiming a little higher," he replied with a lewd wink.

Buffy looked down at the top of her dress, where her ample cleavage was exposed. "If it fell down there, I'd never be able to find it."

"But it would be fun to search for," he told her, a purely male grin crossing his face.

She picked up the tomato and threw it back at him. It hit his tie, then rolled down into his lap. "Now, Slayer, no need to get violent," he said. "My tie did nothing to you."

"Except hurt my eyes," she retorted.

"Does that mean I can take the bloody thing off?" he asked, a hopeful expression on his face.

"No," she answered, then winked. "I like to see you suffer."

Spike stuck his lower lip out and folded his arms across his chest. "You're no fun."

"Would you like me to stand on the table and dance for you?" Buffy asked.

The blond vampire perked up. "Really?"

"In your dreams," she replied.

"Already happened," he said. A horrified look crossed his face when he realized he said it aloud. Luckily, the waiter came back with his drink and he occupied himself with the glass, hoping Buffy would forget what he said. Too bad it didn't work.

"So, you dream about me dancing on the table?" Buffy said with a grin hovering on her lips after the waiter had left. "Do I do anything else in these dreams of yours?"

"I plead the..., er..., sixth!" Spike replied.

"It's the fifth and you're not an American," Buffy said.

"How do you know I'm not?" he said.

"Um, accent, language, superior attitude," she listed.

"I could have a yellow card," he stated smugly.

Buffy giggled. "That's a green card, and I don't think they give them out to someone who's been dead for two hundred years."

"Undead," he corrected. "And that's only for 166 years."

"Which made you how old when you undied?" she asked.

"Twenty-six," he answered. He leaned forward and said in a hushed voice, "I was turned on my birthday, you know."

Buffy blinked in shock. "Oh my god."

"Actually, it was Angelus, but he has a tendency to think he's a god," Spike said conversationally.

"How can you be so...not caring about something like that?" Buffy asked.

"Luv, I'm a vampire. I don't care about much," he replied.

"But it was your birthday."

"An' iffin I remembers right, I was pissed as a rat an' this bog-trotting ponce fancied a bit, an' seein' as ‘e was a bit of alright, I thought, what the ‘ell, why not give it a go? Then the bloody tosser went an' turned me. After that, it didn't matter."

Buffy stared at Spike. "Was a single word of what you just said in English?"

*****  
To anyone listening in on the conversation the two were having, they would have thought one of two things: either they were movie stars - or they were just plain nuts.

"You were eaten?" Spike said, staring at her over the rim of his glass.

"Yup," Buffy said, stabbing a piece of her steak with her fork. "Same day I met the Gorches. Lyle came back, you know. Just the other week. He had a wife named Candy. Cordelia dusted her with a spatula."

"Did being eaten hurt?" he asked, curiously.

"Not really," she replied. "It was kinda slimy. A little prickly, maybe, but I wasn't in her long enough to do any real damage — to me, that is." She grinned.

Their dinner had come -- steak and shrimp for Buffy and a stake so rare it still mooed for Spike - and any awkward silences disappeared as they shared stories and ate. Cordelia had stopped by to see how they were doing and they both agreed to do something for the cheerleader for saving what otherwise could have been a disastrous evening.

"Let me see if I have them all so far," Spike said after taking another bite of his dinner. "You've been eaten, shot at, stabbed, almost sacrificed, almost offed by magick, and you've died. Am I forgetting anything?"

"I was buried alive once," she said. "I was also turned into a vampire that same week."

"What?!"

"No, not a real vampire," Buffy amended, taking in his horrified expression. "This kid was making people's nightmares come true. I was still Buffy, not demon-spawn. And why do you look like someone stole your car? I thought you'd love it if I were vamped."

"No," Spike said firmly. "I like you just the way you are — all warm and fiery and alive."

Buffy smiled. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a vampire?"

He frowned at her in confusion. "What?"

"You're suppose to be trying to kill me," Buffy told him. "Not liking my living status."

"Since when have I done what I'm suppose to, luv?" Spike replied.

"True," she said. She eyed his plate in a predatory fashion. "Are you going to eat that?"

"Yes," Spike said, pulling his plate closer to him. "If you want some more, order it. This is mine."

"But then I'll look like a pig," Buffy pouted.

"Order dessert, then," he told her.

"Fine," she said.

He eyed her warily as he took another bite of his food. "You're not going to stake me for the rest of my steak, are you?"

Buffy giggled. "Maybe."

"Then can you make sure that you take this stupid tie off me first?" Spike said. "If I'm going to die, I'd rather not go looking like a nancyboy."

"I think you look good," she said, then blushed. "I mean, all I ever see you in are black jeans and a black t-shirt with that duster. Sometimes you wear that red shirt, but other than that..."

He gave her a rakish grin. "You've noticed what I've been wearing? I thought Slayers were suppose to slay and move on, not analyze their opponent's fashions."

Buffy didn't say anything, she only became redder.

"Slayer, you're blushing," Spike said, his grin growing. "I think someone liked me before we made our little deal."

"Did not," Buffy replied.

"Liar," he stated.

"What about you?" she said, trying to turn the tables.

"I've always liked me," Spike answered. He chuckled at her scowl. "If I told you that I did, would that make you happy?"

"If it's the truth," Buffy replied, pushing shrimp tails around on her otherwise empty plate.

"The night I fought you for the first time, you were in blue sweater with white flowers over a green shirt. You smelled like vanilla and sweat, femininity and power. I wanted to kill you, but I had also wondered if you would be as passionate in bed as you were fighting me. And that thought crossed my mind each time I saw you fight. So, you could say I fancied you a bit."

"Oh," she breathed, her heart pounding.

"Yeah," he said quietly, picking up his drink and finishing it off. He cleared his throat and gave her a half-smile. "Now, how about that dessert, pet?"

*****  
"Well, um, goodnight," Buffy said nervously. She and Spike were on her front porch, him having escorted her to the door. It was the traditional time for the daters to kiss, and butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. She didn't know if she wanted a kiss or not.

"Goodnight," Spike replied, a smile hovering on his lips.

She shot him a glance, then put her hand on the doorknob, hoping to escape inside. However, he had other ideas. His larger hand covered hers and pulled lightly until she turned and fully faced him. "I'm going to kiss you, Buffy. If you don't want me to, you'd better say so now," he told her as he leaned closer to her.

When she didn't say anything, Spike's eyes darkened just before he claimed her lips with his own. Sparks of chemistry shot between them, pulling them back in time to the day they laid together, loving each other hour after hour. Desire coursed through them, until it became a palpable thing, hanging over them, waiting to strike.

Reluctantly, Spike managed to break away and take a step back from her. He was panting as heavily as she was, and was surprised he hadn't burst from his pants. "Uh, I have to...go...now...and do....uh,....something," he stammered. Then he focused on her swollen lips and the quick rise and fall of her breasts under the unbuttoned jacket.

He abruptly grabbed her again and plunged his hands into her hair, scattering the pins that held it up. His mouth captured hers in a hard, fiery kiss, brutally punishing it with his teeth. He plunged his tongue into mouth, forcefully dragging hers into a fight. Her hands latched onto the front of his shirt, clutching the soft, black material, trying to pull him as close to her as she could get.

Buffy stopped the kiss this time, but not because she wanted to. She pushed him away from her, her face red with arousal and embarrassment. "Spike, I have to go..."

"What? Wait, I mean," Spike was flustered, and he shook his head and tried to get his bearings. "Why?"

"Spike, just go, I have to...," she trailed of and reached back for the doorknob. "Goodnight." With that, she threw open the door and scurried inside.

Spike turned and sat down on the top step and rested his head in his hands. He didn't hear the door reopen behind him, or the woman who joined him until she spoke.

"Spike, are you alright?" Joyce asked, stepping onto the front porch.

He looked back over his shoulder at her. "Did she say anything?" he asked.

Joyce frowned. "About?"

"Never mind," he said, looking depressed.

It dawned on Joyce what had happened and she was forced to hide her smile. "Do you want me to send Buffy back out once she gets out of the bathroom?"

"What wrong? Is she sick? Is something the matter? I didn't hurt her, did I? Or the baby?" Spike asked in a rush, getting to his feet.

"Spike, she just had to go to the bathroom," Joyce replied with a small laugh. She'd been right. A slightly amorous dalliance on the front porch was interrupted by mother nature's effect on a pregnant woman.

"Oh," he said. Then he almost smacked himself on the head as he realized what happened. He looked up at Joyce, who was smiling at him in a slightly mocking way. "Tell the Slayer I'll ring her soon."

"I will," she replied. "Goodnight, Spike."

"‘Night, Joyce," he said, then headed back to his car. On the way, he went to rip the tie off and throw it away, but at the last minute changed his mind. Instead, he dug out a piece of paper and pen from the glove compartment in the car, jotted a quick note, then stuck it and the tie in the Summers' mailbox.

With a happy whistle, he got into his car and drove away.

 

Part Seventeen

"There was something in the mailbox for you," Joyce said as Buffy entered the house after a day over at Willow's. "I put it on your bed."

"Thanks," Buffy replied, setting her slaying bag down and moving to the refrigerator. "Do we have any apples? And mayonnaise?"

"Drawer, door," Joyce answered.

Buffy thanked her Mom again, picked up her bag, and headed up the stairs. Along the way, she unscrewed the mayonnaise lid and dipped the apple in it, then took a large bite.

She paused mid-chew when she saw the tie on the bed. With a giggle, she set her stuff down and picked up the note sitting on the tie.

Buffy (see, I didn't call you Slayer) ~

Remember, you're not suppose to care about what your mortal enemy wears.

Mushy stuff (because women like that sort of thing),  
Spike

Buffy rolled her eyes, chuckling. She went over to her mirror and tacked it up just as the phone rang. "Hello?" she said upon picking up the receiver.

"Hello, pet," Spike said on the other end of the line.

"Got your note," Buffy told him. "Has anyone ever told you that you're weird?"

"And lived? Just you, ducks," he answered. "What are you doing?"

"Eating," she replied, taking another bite of apple.

"Well, finish up and change," Spike said. "I'll be over in about ten minutes to take you out."

"Is that an order?" Buffy asked sarcastically.

"No," he replied. "A polite request."

"You are so full of it," she told him.

"True," he said. "I'll see you shortly, luv."

"I'll be waiting," Buffy said, then disconnected. She scowled at herself in the mirror for giving in so easily, then she rushed about the room, changing her clothes. The doorbell rang just as she was giving her hair a final brush.

"Buffy, Spike's here!" Joyce called from downstairs.

"Coming!" Buffy yelled back. She set the brush down and grabbed her purse. At the door, she paused, looking back at the bed. With a grin, she grabbed the tie and slipped it on before going on her second date with Spike.

As days continued to pass, that second date turned into four, four into eight, and eight into sixteen until they were basically seeing each other every night. And leaving each other with unfulfilled desires after passionate kisses, because Spike was too worried about hurting the baby. Buffy was well into her eighth month, feeling as big as a house, but her mood swings were less volatile because Spike seemed to have a knack for keeping her happy.

It seemed as though everyone else was happy, too. Cordelia and Xander, Willow and Oz, and Faith and Angel, although they weren't anything more than friends. Spike had been good, not killing anyone unless he really, really wanted to and thought the world would be better off without the person -- or they ticked him off. Things seemed to be going wonderfully.

Which, of course, meant that things were bound to go wrong.

"Excuse me," a tall, blond man said, stepping into Spike's path as the vampire was heading up the Summers' front walk. "Are you Spike?"

Spike frowned, wary of a stranger knowing his name. "Yeah, and you are?"

"Hank Summers," Hank said, extending his hand. "I'm Buffy's father."

"Hello," Spike said, shaking the man's hand. "Buffy didn't say that you were coming up."

"Actually, I came to meet you," Hank said.

Spike mentally groaned. "Is this the part where you run me and the Sl-Buffy to the church with a shotgun?"

"No," Hank replied. "This is the part where you're arrested."

"What?" Spike started in shock. Suddenly, he was surrounded by six men in suits, all pointing weapons at him.

"Hands on your head," one of the men ordered. "Now."

Spike had a choice. Kill them all and get shot in the process or go with them and kill them when the chances of getting shot were less. He hated being shot, so he chose the second and put his hands on his head.

Twenty minutes later, he was in a small room with a one-way mirror, a tape recorder, a table and chairs, his hands cuffed behind him. Hank had ridden in the front seat of the vehicle he in which was taken to the police station, preventing him from breaking free. Although he was sorely tempted, he couldn't kill Buffy's dad. She'd be really ticked at him if he did that.

Staying as far away from the mirror as he could, Spike surveyed his temporary prison. The walls were cement and the door was steel. Deciding he would have to play his escape by ear, he turned his thoughts on why he was apprehended to begin with. So far, they told him nothing, but for Buffy's dad to be involved, he was pretty sure it had something to do with the lack of background on him. After all, he had been technically dead for 166 years.

One of the suits that had brought him in entered the room, followed by a uniformed police officer. The officer went up to Spike, holding a set of handcuff keys. Spike turned and allowed him to remove the metal, then returned to his position leaning against the wall opposite the door. He pulled a cigarette out from the pack that had been left on the table, which he'd palmed, and lit it with a similarly provided match.

"Well, let's get started, shall we?" the suit said. "I'm Special Agent Foster with the FBI and you are?"

Spike stared at him with a quirked brow, the cigarette dangling from his lips.

"I can see we're getting off to a great start," Foster said. He pulled out a chair and took a seat, then gestured across the table. "We're going to be awhile. You might as well get comfortable."

"I am," Spike replied, inhaling on the cigarette. He took it out of his mouth and lazily blew the smoke into the air.

"I see," Foster commented. He opened a file that he had brought in with him. "Do you know why we brought you in, Spike?"

"Couldn't find a whore in your price range?" Spike replied.

"Cute," Foster said. "Real cute. I'm sure that attitude will go over real well at the federal penitentiary."

"Don't bother to threaten me, mate," Spike said. "I've been scarier places than a prison. Ohio, for one."

"Why don't we cut with the polite chit-chat and get right down to it," Foster said, tossing the file on the table. "You don't exist and we want to know why."

Spike was right, it was because of his background, or lack thereof. "I'm standing right in front of you, so I must bloody well exist."

"There are two ways we can do this," Foster stated, rising. "You can answer my questions now, or we can lock you up until you do. Your choice."

"Don't I get a phone call?" Spike asked. "Or my own Ally McBeal?"

"This is a federal investigation," Foster told him. "You don't get anything unless the government says so."

*****

"Hey, B!" Faith greeted as the pregnant blond Slayer entered the cemetery. "What'cha doin' out here?"

"Taking Mr. Pointy for a walk," Buffy said.

"Sneaky," Faith commented. "Getting around the whole ‘no slayage while your preggers.'"

"So what's up?" Buffy asked, falling into step beside the brunette.

"Not much," she answered. "Soulboy's suppose to meet up with me at Fairfield, then we're picking up the Colonel."

"The Colonel?" Buffy said, giving her sister-in-arms a confused look.

"You know, KFC, chicken-man?" Faith clarified. "Pops up in Japanese Anime?"

"Got it," she replied. "You know, chicken sounds really good. With tartar sauce."

"Girl, I ain't never gonna get pregnant if I'm gonna want to eat like that," Faith said, making a disgusted face.

"Hey, it's really good," Buffy defended, then burst into giggles. "Ok, it's not. But I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," Faith said. "Why don't you get your man to take you out?"

"Don't know where he is," Buffy replied.

"I thought you two were joined at the hip or somethin'," Faith said.

"We are not," Buffy scowled. "I have a life outside of him."

"And I can fly," the brunette replied.

"How about ducking instead?" Buffy said, then punched the vampire who'd come up behind Faith.

*****  
Spike actually had no clue what to do to get himself out of the situation he was in. Since they wouldn't let him use the phone, he couldn't call Buffy, and it wasn't as if he could show them what he really was. He'd be shot and he hated being shot. It hurt. And he couldn't kill them, unless he wanted to endanger Buffy. They'd end up using her to get to him. There were also just too many cops around to be able to kill them all.

They'd stuck him in a holding cell that was similar to the interrogation room, with cement walls and a steel door he couldn't wrench open. He also couldn't get through the window set high on the wall, covered with thick, iron bars on the inside of the glass for one simple reason -- he was too short. There was a cot bolted to the floor in the room, along with a toilet in the corner, but nothing that would help him. He was effectively stuck.

He sat on the cot and leaned back against the hard wall. After a brief mental conversation with himself, he decided to try giving the Feds his real name in hopes that someone else out there would have it...and not be wanted for anything.

*****  
"Dad!" Buffy exclaimed as she entered the house and saw her father in the living room with her mom. "What are you doing here? Is everything ok?"

Hank stood and embraced her. "Everything is fine, princess. I was on my way north on a business trip and thought I'd stop by and say hello, see how you were."

"I'm fine," Buffy said, smiling. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," Hank replied. They both sat down and Joyce left the living room to give them some privacy. "So, honey, how are you feeling."

"Great," Buffy replied. She laid a hand on her protruding stomach. "Junior here has been good, especially since Spike came back. Oh, I should call him. You probably want to meet him, but you have to promise not to yell at him for my getting pregnant."

"That's ok, Buffy," Hank said. "I don't need to meet him."

Buffy looked at her father in confusion. "Why not? I thought you'd want to."

"Oh, well, I...uh...already did," Hank said. "I met Spike when I arrived. He didn't seem like a very good man for you, Buffy."

"What? You met Spike already?" Buffy said. "When was this? Why isn't he here?"

"I don't know, dear," Hank lied. "After we met, he left. I think you can do much better."

"Dad, can you excuse me a minute?" Buffy asked, rising. She went into the kitchen to where her mother was sitting. "Mom, did Spike call or come by?"

"No," Joyce replied. "I haven't seen him since yesterday. Why?"

"Dad said he met Spike when he arrived," Buffy told her. "So why isn't he here?"

"Maybe he decided to give you and your dad some time alone together," Joyce suggested.

"Maybe," Buffy said. "I think I'll call him, though. He and dad really should get to know one another while Dad's here."

She picked up the phone and quickly dialed Spike's motel room. When she got no answer, she frowned. "Not home," she commented to her mom, then dialed another number.

"Angel's Sex Line. How do you like them hung?" Faith said over the line.

"Faith, it's Buffy," Buffy said. "What are you doing with Angel's cell phone?"

"I filched it," Faith answered. "So, what's the what?"

"You wouldn't know if Angel saw Spike recently?"

"I'll ask," Faith said. Then Buffy heard yelling. "Yo, soul-butt! You seen your kid?"

There was muffled talking, then Angel answered the line. "I haven't seen him, Buffy. Is there a problem?" he asked.

"I don't know," Buffy replied. "He met my dad, but didn't stick around."

"Maybe he wanted to give you two time alone," Angel suggested.

"That's what Mom said," she replied. "Oh well. Keep an eye out for him, will you? I wouldn't mind my dad getting to know him."

"Ok," Angel said. "Faith and I will see if we can scrounge him up for you."

"Thanks, Angel," Buffy said. "Bye."

An hour later, Hank left and there was no sign of Spike. Buffy was starting to worry. Despite her protests earlier to Faith, they were normally together all the time, getting to know one another and preparing for the baby. For Spike to not even call was strange.

By one in the morning, Buffy was very worried.

By dawn, she was in full-blown panic mode.

 

 

Part Eighteen

 

Spike felt awful. He was sweating and extremely weak. He was sitting on the dirty floor as close to the wall under the window as he could get, the same window that the sun was streaming through, bathing almost the entire holding cell with its killing light.

He'd watched the sun creep into the room since dawn, the rays advancing on him until he had to take refuge under the window. He had tried to get the attention of the guards, to tell them he was allergic to the sun, but no one came. The blanket he'd attempted to cover the window with was wrapped around his body over his duster, as if that would protect him from the deadly effects of something as simple as the daylight.

The FBI agent seemed to have forgotten about him, because he'd never returned to the cell to see if Spike would ‘give up' his real name. Right then, he'd admit to anything they wanted if that would get him a windowless room.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought down the overwhelming fear that was engulfing him. His hand pulled on the cord around his neck until the small woven satchel was free, then he clutched it tightly, trying to center his thoughts on Buffy and his baby.

*****  
"He's missing, Dad," Buffy said over the phone, fear easily heard in her voice. "I need to know what way he went after you talked to him."

"I'm not sure, honey," Hank said. "He was rather rude..."

"Dad, think! It's important," she cried. "He could be hurt, or need help, or-"

"He could be in jail," Hank suggested.

"What?" Buffy gasped.

"That Spike seemed to be a bad fellow," he replied. "Perhaps he got into trouble with the law."

"But he wouldn't let himself get arrested," Buffy said, not realizing that she was thinking aloud. "He'd be trying not to kill them."

"Not to kill them!" Hank exclaimed. "I knew there was something not right when there was no record of him."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Dad, what did you do?"

"Nothing that any concerned parent wouldn't do," he answered.

"Where is he?" Buffy growled.

"Princess, that doesn't-"

"WHERE IS HE?!" Buffy screamed into the phone.

"The FBI have him," Hank said. "They took him to the Sunnydale Police Station. But he could be-"

Buffy hung up on her father and quickly dialed another number. "Cordy, I need a ride to the police station - now! My dad had Spike arrested!"

"On my way," Cordelia replied over the line.

*****

Xander, who'd been with Cordelia when her cell phone rang, put a restraining hand on Buffy's arm. "You have to be calm, Buff," he told her. "If you yell, they aren't going to tell you anything."

"What if I bash their faces in?" Buffy growled, storming as fast as she could into the police station.

"That would probably not work, either," Xander said. He looked at his girlfriend for help.

"Buffy, let me talk to them," Cordelia said.

"No," Buffy replied. She stopped in front of the clerk's desk, which was the same height as her, and glared up at the uniformed officer. "I need to know if you've arrested someone and are holding him."

"Name?" the officer said.

"Spike," Buffy replied. "He would have been arrested last night because of my stupid father."

"Hold on," the officer replied. He turned to a sheaf of papers and flipped through them. His brow went up when he found the entry and looked down at her. "Can you hold on a minute, Miss?"

Without waiting for an answer, he walked away from the desk to the phone. Xander exchanged a look with Cordelia. "Why do I think this isn't a good sign?"

The officer returned and looked down at the trio. "Special Agent Foster would like to speak with you," he said. "Down that hall, first door on your left."

"Cordy, call Giles," Buffy instructed as they walked down the hall. The brunette hit her speed- dial.

The room they were instructed to go to held nothing more than a table and a few chairs. As Cordelia spoke with Giles, Buffy paced back and forth and Xander watched her with his eyes. "Buffy, you're making me dizzy," he said.

"Shut up, Xander," Buffy said.

"Hello, I'm Special Agent Foster of the FBI," Foster said, entering the room and closing the door behind him, a file in his hand. "I understand you're asking about Spike?"

"Where is he?" Buffy demanded. "Did you arrest him? Is he in jail?"

"He is currently incarcerated, yes," Foster replied. "Now then-"

"Does the cell have a window?!" Buffy said in a high-panicky voice, grabbing the man by the lapels of his suit. "Does it?!"

"Buff-" Xander warned.

"I don't know, but if you don't release me, I'll have you right in there along with him for assaulting a federal agent," Foster said.

Buffy let go of his jacket, tears starting to stream down her face. "Please, he's allergic to the sun. If wherever you have him has a window, he could die."

Foster looked surprised. "I'll go check right now."

"Let me see him," she half-begged, half-sobbed. "Whatever my dad told you is not true. I'll cooperate, I'll do anything, just let me see him."

The special agent relented. "Ok. You two wait here," he told Cordelia and Xander. When the nodded, he led Buffy down a series of halls until they reached the back of the police station. There, he checked his gun and Buffy had to leave her purse before they were let into the holding cells.

"He's in this one," Foster said, motioning for the guard to unlock the heavy steel door. There was a small window in the door, clearly showing that there was sunlight in the room.

The second the door was open, Buffy pushed around Foster and rushed into the room. She saw Spike curled up in a ball directly under the window, the edges of the light streaming in the room mere inches from his form. "Oh god, Spike," she gasped, going over to him and kneeling down at his side.

Spike could barely open his eyes. "Slayer?" he croaked, his throat dry.

"Yeah, it's me," she replied. She turned her head and glared at Foster and the guard. "Someone cover this window, now!" When the guard nodded and hurried away, she turned back to Spike and ran her hand over his wet brow. "You'll be ok. I told them you were allergic to the sun."

"Shouldn't we get him to a hospital?" Foster asked.

Buffy's steely eyes met the special agent's. "No. And this shouldn't have happened. Why didn't anyone notice this?"

The guard bustled back into the room, carrying a heavy tarp and a step ladder, preventing Foster from replying. Buffy stood and grabbed the tarp from him as he set up the ladder, then climbed up herself and hooked it on the two metal rods sticking out of the cement above the window. She climbed back down, glad to see that the sun was effectively blocked, then put her hands on her hips and stared murderously at Foster.

"He could have died," Buffy spat, knowing that it would have looked like he'd escaped if Spike had indeed died. "And it would have been your fault. I'm going to have your badge so fast, you won't even have time to blink."

"No need to get hasty," Foster protested, raising his hands in defense. "If you can answer a few, simple questions, we can let him go."

"Such as?" Buffy asked in a deadly tone.

"We need his name," Foster replied. "His real one. Birthdate and place of birth. Social Security number or passport if he's not from the US."

"Fine," she growled. "I need to call someone for his medication, then your questions will get answered." Foster nodded and gestured to the door. She shook her head. "I'm not leaving. Bring me a phone or bring Cordelia back here with her phone."

Foster went to protest again, but Buffy's icy stare caused him to change his mind. The heavy door was closed behind him as he left.

Buffy knelt beside Spike again and reached out to gently brush his cheek. His eyes cracked open and she gave him a small smile. "Hey, do you think you can sit up?"

Spike slowly started to push himself into a sitting position with Buffy's help. Once he was leaning against the wall, she noticed that he was clutching something in one of his hands. His eyes were half-slits, as if the lids weighed too much, and he seemed to be looking through her. "We'll have you out of here as soon as we can," she told him.

"Slayer?" Spike repeated, reaching out with his free hand.

Buffy took it and squeezed. "I'm here."

"I'm sorry," he said in a dry, hoarse voice. "I don't want to leave the baby."

"You're going to be ok, Spike," she said. "I covered the window."

"I don't want to leave you," he continued. Buffy realized he wasn't hearing her, not even focusing on her. She brushed his cheek, her heart swelling, as he repeated, "I don't want to leave you."

Cordelia and Foster entered the cell at that moment, breaking her gaze away from the vampire. "Here, Buffy," the brunette cheerleader said, handing her the phone. "God, he looks terrible."

"Uh, thanks," Buffy said. She looked down at the cell phone, then shook her head to clear it and dialed. "First thing was first," she muttered to herself. "Help Spike, then give into mushy feelings."

"Yeah," a groggy voice answered.

"Angel, we have a problem," Buffy said. She lowered her voice. "Spike's been arrested and we're at the police station."

"Is he ok?" Angel asked, waking up quickly.

"He's been stuck in a sun-filled room for hours," she told him. "He needs blood."

"I'll send some over," he said.

"Angel, the FBI wants his name and stuff," Buffy said.

"Don't worry, I have it covered," Angel told her. "I won't be able to get there until after sunset..."

"I know," she said. "We won't be going anywhere until then."

"Tell the officer that his brother will bring everything later, and that I'm allergic to the sun, too," Angel instructed. "Spike's real name is William Joseph Tavert."

"‘K," she sniffed, the tears coming again.

"Hey, everything will be fine," Angel said.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Thanks."

"Ok, I'll see you later."

"Bye."

Buffy disconnected and handed the phone back to Cordelia, then wiped her face with her sleeve. She looked up at Foster and said, "Angel will be here as soon as the sun goes down. He's Spike's brother. He's allergic to the sun, too. It's...uh...hereditary. Someone is bringing his medicine."

"Angel?" Foster said. Then he muttered, "Spike and Angel. Now why am I thinking their parents were on something."

"Do you need anything else?" Buffy said, turning to sit on the floor next to Spike.

"His full name, if it isn't too much trouble," Foster replied.

"William Joseph Tavert," Buffy said, then realized it was the first time she'd ever heard Spike's real name.

Foster nodded. "You can stay back here with him," he said, then turned to Cordelia. "However..."

"Like I want to stay back here with the winos anyway," Cordelia said. She looked down at Buffy. "We'll be waiting if you need us. Giles, Willow and Oz are here, too. And your Mom said she'd take care of your Dad."

"Thanks, Cordy," Buffy said.

Foster and Cordelia left, shutting the door behind them, effectively locking her in with Spike. He'd been quiet since they'd come in, and she saw that his eyes were closed. "Spike, are you awake?" When he didn't answer, she reached out and took his free hand, interweaving their fingers. Then she laid her head on his shoulder and shut her own eyes, allowing herself to relax somewhat as she waited.

*****  
Faith arrived less than half-an-hour later with some ‘medicine' for Spike. It was enough to take the edge off the sun-sickness the vampire had, but not enough for him to really function. By the time the sun went down and Angel showed up at the police station, both Buffy and Spike were sleeping on the cot, where Buffy had managed to move the blond vampire to after she fed him the blood.

"Most of the records were destroyed," Angel was telling Agent Foster, handing him a folder. "I saved what I could -- birth certificate, a few trust account records. Spike's a little hot-headed, but he's never been in trouble. And from what I gather, Buffy's dad is the one who set you on Spike's tail. I don't think I need to bring up father's and their daughters, especially when they're eighteen and pregnant."

"No," Foster said, checking over the documents. "I have a daughter myself, which is why I got involved in this case when we had no record of Mr. Tavert what-so-ever." Angel nodded, but said nothing. "Well, everything looks in order. Let me do a quick check, and then you can take your brother home."

"Thanks," Angel said. He left the office the agent had commandeered and rejoined the others.

"They gonna spring the stiff?" Faith asked.

"Yes," Angel answered, giving her a pointed look at her slur.

"It's a good thing you had that stuff on Spike," Willow said. "Why do you have that stuff on Spike, anyway?"

"I put it together when Spike came back to town," Angel replied. "Eventually he'll need it, especially with a child on the way."

They gang fell into general talk as they waited, until Foster finally returned with the file. "Everything's in order," he said, handing the folder to Angel. "Your brother and Miss Summers are on their way up."

"Thanks," Angel said. Foster nodded and walked away. A few minutes later, Buffy and a very tired looking Spike joined them.

"Hey guys," Buffy said. "You didn't have to wait."

"What are friends for?" Willow replied with a smile.

"I'll bring the van around," Oz said, taking Willow's hand.

"If everything is ok, I suppose we'd best go on patrol. Faith?" Giles said.

"Aye, aye, Watcher-man," Faith said, giving him a salute. "Check ya later, B. Get better, Spikey." Faith and Giles left, followed shortly by Xander and Cordelia, leaving Angel, Buffy and Spike alone.

Spike raised his weary eyes to meet Angel's. "Thanks, mate."

"What are sire's for?" Angel replied with a dry smile. "Come on, let's get you to the mansion. I just tapped a cow with your name on it."

 

 

Part Nineteen

 

Buffy paused outside the old, wooden door, her hand laying on the coarse material. She bit her lower lip, then pushed the it open and stepped back in time.

It was just how she remembered it. The small double bed was against the left wall near the opposite corner of the room. A single dresser stood opposite it. There was a simple night stand with a small lamp next to the bed.

And in the far right corner of the room was the wheelchair.

She knew that Angel had cleaned the mansion once he'd started getting his strength back, which was why the chair was in here and not in the main room. She noticed that there were clean sheets on the bed, and that the room was free from dust. "He must have done that this afternoon," she murmured, walking over to the bed.

"Remembering, luv?" Spike's voice drifted over to her from the doorway. She turned and saw him leaning against the open doorjamb, towel in hand, wearing only a pair of jeans and something around his neck.

"Yeah," Buffy replied, resting a hand on her swollen abdomen. "It seems like so long ago."

"Less than a year," he said, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

"But a lifetime of pain," she commented quietly, after turning back towards the bed. She didn't know that Spike had moved again until she felt his hands on her shoulders.

"Are you alright?" Spike asked, concern lacing his voice.

"I should be asking you that," Buffy replied. She turned to face him, and his hands returned to her shoulders. "You could have died."

"But I didn't," he said, giving her a half-smile. "And Angel's blood stash put me back to my lovable, demon self."

Buffy's own lips quirked up. "That's an oxymoron, you know."

"Are you calling me an ox and a moron?" Spike asked, giving her a wink.

She winked back. "I plead the sixth." Spike laughed and Buffy felt a wave of relief wash over her. He really was ok. She fought back the urge to throw her arms around her and instead looked at the woven satchel that was attached to a cord around his neck. "What's this?" she asked, lifting it off his bare chest to examine it more closely.

"It's...er,...something," Spike mumbled.

"Vague much?" Buffy said. "It must be important, you were clutching it at the police station like a lifeline."

"Do you really want to know, Buffy?"

Buffy looked up and met his eyes at the soft, serious question. She knew at that moment, if she said yes, there'd be no turning back. She knew she would fall in love with him.

"Yes."

Spike lifted the cord over his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "Hold out your hand," he said. Buffy turned her hand palm up in between them, finally tearing her gaze from his when something fell into her hand.

"Oh," she gasped, her eyes widening at the sight of the gold, cross necklace she thought she'd lost. Her mind flashed back to that fateful day, and she saw him take that very necklace from her hand and set it on the night stand. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him. "You kept it?"

He nodded in reply. With her other hand, she took the small, woven bag from him and replaced the necklace inside. She lifted the cord over his head, so it lay once again around his neck. She then met his beautiful blue eyes, and whispered, "Make love to me."

Spike's hand started to shake as he brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "Won't I ‘urt the baby?" he asked, his accent thickening.

Buffy shook her head. "We won't. I'll show you how."

He swallowed heavily, then lowered his head and placed his lips against hers. Slowly, they began to explore each other's mouths, tasting each other as if it were for the first time. Spike's hands wove into Buffy's hair, holding her to him as he caressed her tongue with his, sending tendrils of longing through both of them.

Past blended with the present, old memories fading into new as the vampire and the Slayer gently loved each other. Buffy's clothing joined his on the floor, and they lay on the bed, Spike worshiping her swollen body with his lips and hands. She was brought to the edge again and again as he prepared her for him.

Laying behind her, Spike carefully entered Buffy's hot core until he was fully sheathed inside. He kissed her shoulder and neck as he began to move in and out of her, his hand cupping her full breast, skimming down over her body to her dark curls. His fingers danced over her most sensitive nub, carrying her with him as he fell over the precipice into a pool of shooting stars, gasping out each other's names as the colors burst around them.

His hand was curled around her, holding her flush against him, as they slowly came down. With a whisper light kiss on the side of her neck, he told her what was in his heart. "I love you, Buffy."

Tears fell freely from Buffy's eyes, tears of happiness and of love. "I love you, too, Spike," she said, her fingers twining with his, holding him close. "I love you, too."

 

 

Epilogue

 

"That's it, one more time," Dr. Reynolds instructed. "And push!"

"Aaaaaahhhhhh! I hate you! Get this thing out of meeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh...!"

Outside the private maternity room doors, eight people exchanged grins when they heard the distinctive wail of a new life being born into the world. A few minutes later, the doors burst open and a blue-gowned figure slid into the room.

"It's a girl!" Angel exclaimed, grinning like mad.

"Congratulations, old man," Spike said, hugging his sire with one arm, the other holding a sleeping five-year-old girl against him. "Took you bloody long enough."

"What's that crying, Mommy?"

"That's the new baby, Anna," Cordelia told her three-year-old daughter.

"Sounds like your sister, Chrissy, doesn't it?" Xander said to Anna, holding a baby in his arms.

"Does this mean Auntie Faith isn't gonna be fat no more?" a redheaded six-year-old asked.

"Anymore, Michael," Willow corrected. "And Auntie Faith will be back to normal in a few weeks."

"And out slaying," Oz added, giving his wife a small smile. He looked at the redheaded one-year- old on his knee. "Isn't that right, Jake?"

"Not if I can help it," Giles commented from his seat next to Oz. "Although having two pregnant Slayers at once is taking things a bit far."

"You forgot to add ‘by vampires,' dear," Joyce said, patting her husband's knee. "You're forgetting things in your old age."

"Dad's not that old, Mom," a seven-year-old girl told Joyce.

"That's right, Robin," Giles said. He patted Joyce's swelled stomach. "I still have a-a little pluck left in me."

"Hey Mom, can we bloody go now?" a dark-haired, ten-year-old asked.

"William Joseph Tavert, I told you not to use that word," Buffy scolded. She looked over at Spike, who was cheerfully ribbing Angel. "Spike, I'd like to talk to you."

"Ut-oh," Spike said, giving his very pregnant wife an innocent smile. "Are you sure you're ready, Angel? Once you had one, they just keep coming." He looked down at the two-year-old boy attached to his leg. "Right, John?"

John smiled up at him, then bounced on Spike's foot. The blond vampire shot a final grin at Angel, adjusted his sleeping daughter, Jenny, in his arms, then shuffled over to Buffy.

Angel smiled at his large, unconventional family, then disappeared back into the maternity room. Faith glared at him when he came through the door. "Where'd you go, Soulboy?"

"To spread the good news," Angel replied, going to her side and kissing her on the forehead. He looked down at the small, newborn in her arms. "Have you decided on her name?"

"Yeah," Faith said, smiling down at her daughter. "I think we should name her Kendra. Because if it wasn't for her dyin', I never would have met you."

Angel chuckled. "Have I told you I loved you recently, wife?"

"Not since I threatened to castrate you," Faith said. She glanced up at Angel. "And don't think I wasn't serious ‘bout that."

"Never," Angel said. Then he leaned forward and kissed her, the baby sleeping peacefully in her arms.

 

End


End file.
